was ready and charged into them, his sword cutting a dark path through the stinking air. Two were killed cleanly; he caught the down-swing of the third Chetse’s axe on his sword and kneed him in the balls, following that up with an elbow that knocked him over, and swiftly finished him off.
‘Keep the king safe!’ Veil yelled as he took up position beside Doranei. Blood was flowing freely down the side of his face. ‘If he falls they’ll crumble,’ he said more quietly.
Over the clatter and crash of battle Doranei heard a roar from the reserve Kingsguard as Coran led them out into a slaughter every bit as bad as the one they’d just left. Veil nudged him and pointed at what looked like a cavalry battle, and both men felt a sudden surge of hope: it looked like General Lopir had got around and was tearing through the light Menin cavalry.
A gust of cool wind blew across the ramparts, and Doranei felt a few spots of rain. Strangely, the patter of water seemed to wash away his fears, and he felt a swell of elation. On his left, Suzerain Derenin, the Lord of Moorview, cleaved into a man’s neck. The nobleman was caked in blood and filth, and his arm sagged under the weight of his notched, broken-tipped sword, but from somewhere he found the strength to lift it again and meet the next attacker.
Doranei checked his monarch was still standing, then, shouting incoherently, he threw himself back into the fray with renewed strength. He dropped to one knee to slash across a Chetse’s belly, catching him under the breastplate, and the man fell, staring down in disbelief as his guts spilled into the churned-up mud - until Veil clouted him across the face and sent him tumbling down the gouged slope.
Behind them one of the battle-mages cast another lance of fire into the crowd of attackers, but they were exhausted and the fire barely sizzled as it hit.
Doranei felt a fine mist of rain on the exposed parts of his face, and unbidden, a memory rose in his mind: the scent of the ocean, rolling in over Narkang’s streets, and in that moment he felt the strength of the nation behind him as King Emin’s words blossomed to life in his heart.
One way or another, he realised, it ends now.
Coran raced ahead of the Kingsguard, ignoring the nearest Menin as he pounded towards the heart of the Bloodsworn regiments. A flood of green and gold followed him as five hundred Narkang élite, fresh to the battle, sprinted to keep up. The few Menin trying to work their way around to the fighting on the other side were cut down in moments, and the disordered flank of the Bloodsworn disintegrated as the Narkang soldiers smashed into it.
Coran was still ahead, battering a path through the enemy, swinging his mace about his head, letting its great weight crush armour and skulls alike. He was less encumbered than the Bloodsworn, and strong enough to fell a man with every blow, despite their heavy armour. Those few who managed to strike back at him found their swords glancing off his armour as Coran twisted and turned, never staying still, never giving them more than a glimpse of any vulnerable part of his body.
The Kingsguard caught him up and drove like a cavalry wedge into the slower-moving knights, knocking them aside, even wrestling them to the ground to get them out of their way as Coran led the charge to the Cheme infantry. The enemy were reeling from the speed and ferocity of their assault, Coran’s wordless rage echoing in their ears as the Kingsguard followed him joyously into the teeth of the battle.
The white-eye plunged the spiked tip of his mace down into a man’s neck and felt the armour over the collar-bone snap and buckle. The mace snagged on the armour as he tried to withdraw it, distracting him for long enough for an axe to crash into his shoulder. He grunted at the pain as the black-iron was unable to withstand the full force of the blow, spun around and used the vambrace on his left arm to bludgeon the knight in the side of the head, knocking the man into a Kingsguard, who finished him.
A flash of agony lanced through his injured shoulder as Coran hauled back on his mace, still trying to free it, but a Bloodsworn lashed out at him and he was forced to dodge