He emerged into a sea of enemy soldiers, the bulk of whom were formed up behind a line of archers. The berserker Chetse charged straight for the bowmen, who managed to take out a few before breaking ranks and running for their lives.
A squad of soldiers charged Styrax, their pikes levelled, and he dodged to one side to avoid them, deflecting the last with his sword. They had no chance to reform as he pushed on past the long weapons and into the tight squad, cutting around him with superhuman speed. Only two men survived his blistering assault, but they backed into an advancing minotaur, who clubbed one and gored the other, tossing him high in the air before he fell, broken, upon the ground.
More Arothan soldiers ran for Styrax, who found himself parrying three, then four desperate men. One black-clad soldier armed with two axes came in on his left, turning into Styrax’s sword as it came up to stop his axe, bringing his other axe around to catch Styrax’s arm in the next movement - and the manoeuvre would have worked, had Kobra not pushed back the guarding axe and shorn through the shaft. The red-black blade carried on forward, chopping through arm and into his ribs.
Styrax saw the soldier’s mouth fall open in wordless agony as he hung there for a moment, the fanged weapon snagged on his shoulder, his body torn open and his life’s blood flooding out. Their eyes met, and the soldier’s jaw worked for a moment, as though he was trying to give Styrax a message with his last breath.
No words came, and the soldier’s eyes fluttered as death took him.
Styrax tugged his sword from the corpse.
Behind him the Chetse reserves surged on, widening the breach in the wall and reducing what was left of the defensive line to mangled bodies and shattered bone.
‘No quarter!’ Styrax roared as he threw himself forward with his Bloodsworn bodyguard, following in the wake of the crazed minotaurs. More troops joined them, both Chetse and Menin, breathlessly stampeding into the belly of the enemy.
‘Raze the city to the ground - kill them all!’ cried the Lord of the Menin, and the soldiers heard the savagery in their lord’s voice and watched as Styrax threw himself into the fight with reckless abandon, memories of Kohrad’s death filling his mind as he waded through the collapsed city defences. They hurtled further into the city, killing everyone, and setting light to the buildings before they’d even finished the slaughter.
Even before evening drew in, the sky was so dark with smoke that it seemed Tsatach himself, refusing to witness such horror, had turned his fiery eye away from the Land. The rain fell like tears, washing a river of blood from what had once been Aroth into the two lakes.
CHAPTER 30
Mihn ran his fingers up the back of Hulf’s neck, digging into the grey-black fur to scratch the dog’s skin underneath. The oversized puppy arched its neck appreciatively and licked at Mihn’s wrists, and shuffled forward to press its chest against him. Hulf was already bigger than an average dog now, and his shoulders were developing real muscles, but he was still growing into his body, and Mihn reckoned he had a way to go before he had reached his full size.
He turned closer into Mihn, demanding the attention continue, and lifting one huge furry paw up onto Mihn’s thigh. Before Mihn could move, Hulf caught sight of Isak leaving the cottage and bounded forward with a bark, shoving Mihn aside. He turned to watch the exuberant dog charge into Isak and slam both paws into the white-eye’s midriff. It took Isak a moment longer to react than anyone else might have, but once his mind caught up with events a crooked, distant smile crossed his face.
‘It’s a good sign, that,’ Morghien called from the lake shore, where he was fishing.
‘Why do you say that?’
He pointed at Hulf. ‘Dogs have a fine sense for the unnatural. However you brought him back, he’s here now, and with no stink of the Dark Place about him.’
‘Hulf doesn’t smell it,’ Isak said, looking up at him, ‘but I do.’
‘What, the Dark Place?’
The white-eye nodded sadly. ‘On the air, in the fire: a song on the wind.’
‘It is a memory,’ Mihn said firmly. ‘You are here, you are alive - and the Dark Place has no claim on you.’
‘But there I walk,’ Isak said, ‘one foot within, one without, unbound and unchained, but yet