moor. On both sides the men of the Brotherhood recovered quickest and ran through their opponents, but most eyes were on the tremor shuddering through the Menin ranks. A great tearing sound rang out as a circle of ground thirty yards across dropped suddenly away beneath a tightly packed Menin legion, taking a hundred or more men with it.
Doranei blinked. A great cloud of dust had been thrown up, and in the middle, a sudden blazing light erupted and through the swirl he saw a tall figure in brightly coloured robes, standing with arms outstretched where there was no ground to stand on. Spinning bands of light raced from each hand to the air underneath him and with a flourish the mage started moving backwards. He staggered slightly as he reached firm ground again, but he was otherwise unharmed.
‘That fat bastard better step up the pace!’ Coran growled as he smashed through yet another shield.
Doranei didn’t waste time agreeing. The battle hadn’t been raging for long, barely a quarter of an hour, he’d guess, but that was only Coran’s second attempt, and they were badly outnumbered here. Whatever their advantages of position, their losses weren’t so easily replaced on the line.
The sudden heavy beat of drums from the back of the Menin line sparked a flicker of hope in his heart. At first nothing happened, but then the call was taken up and the attackers edged backwards, away from the reach of the Narkang weapons. Once disengaged, they wasted little time in turning and heading for the gaps between the men of the second rank.
‘Hold the line,’ King Emin shouted hoarsely, Suzerain Derenin repeated it more loudly, and immediately the order was shouted from all sides. Doranei looked at the men standing with him as someone dragged dead Brother Daratin out of the way. No one showed much inclination to pursue the enemy; the sight of Narkang bolts taking them down as they fled was enough for most. The battle was far from won, but they all knew a pursuit could mean it lost soon enough.
‘Enjoy it, brothers!’ King Emin shouted after a mouthful of water. ‘Enjoy the sight. They’re not used to this! You’re the first to drive them back - and that won’t be the last lesson we teach Lord Styrax today!’
Despite himself Doranei raised his sword and cheered with the rest of them. There’d be little enough to cheer come the end of the day. But as he shouted with the others, he found his body didn’t want to stop. Tired though he was, that sudden rush, feeling alive as he yelled himself hoarse, was hard to let go of. Then Veil tossed him a flask of brandy and he felt something better.
Standing with one foot on the artillery’s marker stone, Lord Styrax watched his first wave fall back without comment. He started to turn to his right, and stopped when he realised no one was there. Under his enclosed black helm his expression darkened: he still expected to find Kohrad in his lee. The young white-eye had been slow to learn restraint, so he’d kept him close, to teach him the skills he’d need when he inherited his father’s empire.
Styrax’s hand tightened into a fist. There would be no inheritance now. He could nominate a successor - a man he respected, and trusted with the future of his empire - but there would be no swelling of the heart as he watched his son find his own path to greatness. Kohrad’s mother, Selar, had poisoned her own womb when she saw how he worshipped his father; Kohrad’s betrayal had broken her heart.
‘Captain Hain,’ he called brusquely. ‘What is the state of the cavalry?’
The officer hurried up and saluted. What was left of his troops had been temporarily reassigned, and Hain attached to Styrax’s own command staff. ‘It’s good, my Lord. General Gaur continues to shadow the enemy, to ensure they cannot outflank us, so their horsemen are effectively negated.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ Styrax said, still staring towards the fort. ‘What are the casualties from that first tunnelling spell?’
‘Severe: at least a regiment incapacitated, probably the best part of two. We must assume the second strike has had the same effect.’
The huge white-eye was silent for a moment. ‘Tell me, Captain Hain,’ he said eventually, ‘if you were King Emin, how would you approach this battle?’
‘I — Ah, I’d expect it to be my last, sir. A lord’s importance to his army is immense, especially