through the air.
Six miles from the lines he ordered the lead Protector to him.
‘We will be nearing the Dordovan supply lines or rear scouts,’ he said. ‘They know what we’re attempting and will be ready. Assume they know our position.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Esk.
‘I want a clear run. I don’t want a single sword, arrow or spell coming within a hundred yards of me, do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then I leave the timing to you and your brothers across the lines. Strike as required.’
‘It will be done.’
Immediately, Esk ran off, twenty-five Protectors moving seamlessly to join him. The remainder closed ranks around Yron and Erys, the cavalry forming a wedge ahead, the mages scattered through the foot soldiers and cavalry, half holding their HardShields as they rode, the others with offensive spells part formed for quick casting. It was a drain but it wouldn’t be for much longer.
Yron nodded, watching the Protectors sprint away to assault the rear of the Dordovan lines. It was oddly comforting to see them and he knew without any question that they’d achieve their aim. Still he carried on watching until long after they were completely out of sight. He turned his head to speak to Erys and the plain came alive all around them.
Shadows surged from the grass on both sides and crossed the path in front of them. An instant later, bows hummed and jaqrui howled through the darkening dusk. HardShields flared to deflect the incoming missiles, FlameOrbs arced into the sky, HotRain began to fall.
‘Oh dear Gods,’ muttered Yron, then shouted, ‘I told you, I told you!’
The cavalry charged, riding down the elves ahead, swords thumping into the Al-Arynaar, who had no experience of fighting mounted swordsmen. At the end of the charge, the cavalry turned and split to sweep back along the flanks. The Protectors unsnapped weapons and stormed away to meet their attackers, the foot soldiers trailing in their wake. Yron dragged his sword from its scabbard, kicked his horse to escape the HotRain that poured from the sky and headed for the mêlée.
‘No!’ shouted Erys. ‘No!’
‘What?’ Yron turned and saw Erys leaning out of his saddle, grabbing at his reins to pull him round. FlameOrbs splashed down close by, smearing across helpless foot soldiers.
‘We’ve got to go!’ yelled Erys.
‘I will not run, boy.’
‘Leave the Protectors. We have to get our cargo to Xetesk. Now.’
Yron knew he was right but recoiled from running and leaving others to die. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were closing in, hundreds of them streaming across the grass. How had they got here so quickly? More arrows bounced from the HardShield covering Yron. Somewhere nearby a panther roared, its voice picked up by others all around him.
‘ClawBound too,’ he whispered.
What in hell was going on? Surely this was a totally disproportionate response to the theft of a few crumbling parchments? But even as his blood chilled at the numbers suddenly against them, his horse moving nervously, skittish at the sound of the big cat, he could only marvel at how these elves had got so close.
‘Now!’ screamed Erys, as more HotRain appeared above them.
Yron nodded, put his heels to his horse’s flanks, called the research mages and his cavalry guard to him and forged ahead, the sounds of death echoing in his ears.
Auum made a quick analysis as he ran in, blade in his right hand, jaqrui in his left. The spells had served to scatter the foot soldiers and the tight knot of horsemen at the centre of the enemy but now answering spells were coming. Five elves at least were ablaze and dying, their bodies torches to light the gloom, their cries invitations to Shorth to take them.
To his left, well-ordered horsemen had carved through the ambush and were circling round to sweep along their flanks. Ahead, a line of Protectors spread in perfect order to wield the dual weapons they all carried and moved towards them. Behind them, spearmen moved nervously and, at the hub of it all, were the strangers he wanted, unsure and scared.
With Duele left and Evunn right, he sprinted in on a slight arc, other TaiGethen running counter arcs designed to confuse the enemy. Panthers roared and growled. He saw black shapes next to tall bound-elves running in from at least six points, one pair very close to him.
Auum flicked out his jaqrui. It flew straight and fast, wailing in the air. As he ran into the fight, he tracked it. The masked man hadn’t seen it. Auum had mentally noted the