his head, dispelling the thought, and reached a hand through the glistening shell, staring at it as it penetrated. If nothing else, he owed the king his life.
Too late.
A flash of movement caught his eye. He looked up and saw the Shaman’s incantation die on his lips, his hands cease moving as he slumped forward, falling awkwardly around the arrow piercing his chest. Khirro gaped at the Shaman lying in a heap on the grass.
The Kanosee soldier nocked another arrow. Gendred saw him and shouted—Khirro saw his mouth move—but in the instant of distraction another Kanosee soldier’s sword glanced off Gendred’s parry, the edge finding a sliver of flesh between epaulet and helm. Blood squirted, but Gendred fought on, impaling the man. He wrenched his sword free of the enemy’s belly and lurched toward the bowman.
Three wobbling strides passed beneath his feet before one of the two Kanosee remaining in close combat cut him down. Gendred stumbled, sword falling from his hand, his balance holding for an instant before he pitched face first to the blood stained grass.
The archer loosed his arrow. It struck Rudric in the shoulder, piercing his plate mail and knocking him back a step. With a grimace of pain and effort, he chopped down the man who felled Gendred leaving one Kanosee soldier in close combat with him as the bowman drew another arrow.
Thoughts of home and safety fled Khirro’s mind. If Rudric died, he’d be left alone with the enemy and the Kanosee surely wouldn’t let him live. He burst through the spell’s shimmering veil, swapping gentle bird song, rustling grass and the sound of his pulse beating in his ears for the biting clang of steel on steel, the howl of a battle cry.
It took an instant to realize the scream of rage belonged to him.
He rushed at the bowman, who spun toward his cry, startled. The Kanosee archer nocked his arrow quickly and released without benefit of aim, acting purely out of self-preservation.
Pain seared Khirro’s thigh and he pitched forward. His shoulder struck the ground, jolting more agony through his body. He lay on the grass, teeth clenched, hand going unconsciously to the wound in his leg. The arrow had pierced the fleshy outside of his right thigh, just missing bone; the head protruded through the back with the shaft buried to the flights at the front. He cringed, stomach roiling.
This must be how father felt when he lost his arm.
Pain filled his body, pounding and pulsing through his veins, the sound of it clouding his mind. He might have cried out, but couldn’t be sure. For a moment, his world was only the wound in his leg and the misery it inflicted. Slowly, the blood-colored cloud receded from his eyes, from his ears—like a blanket pulled back from a child to wake him—and the world returned.
Khirro heard his name shouted and remembered where he was, what was happening. He struggled to his knees and searched for his one remaining ally, saw the fallen Shaman, the dead soldiers. Sweat streamed from under Rudric’s helm as he fought a Kanosee soldier clad in the black-and-red mail of the undead; the general’s left arm dangled uselessly as he wielded his huge broad sword with the other hand. To Khirro’s right, the archer nocked an arrow and sited Rudric, awaiting his opportunity to let fly and end the fray. Khirro struggled toward him on hands and knees. Everything happened at once.
The undead monster swung his sword.
Rudric dodged and returned a blow, catching the Kanosee across the neck, sending his head tumbling from his shoulders.
The bowman drew back as Khirro lunged forward, swinging his short sword in a frantic arc. He missed by a foot and tumbled to the grass at the archer’s feet, breath knocked from his chest.
The Kanosee archer loosed his arrow as Rudric took a step toward him.
The arrow pierced Rudric's throat, stopping him mid-stride. He wobbled like a man spun around and made dizzy, then his knees buckled and he folded to the ground, dead.
Struggling to draw air, Khirro scrambled to his knees, eyes wide, heart racing. The enemy kicked him in the chest and sent him reeling onto his back. His head hit the ground knocking his helm free. The sky loomed above him, bluer than he remembered it ever being. No clouds marred its smoothness as it stretched on forever, leading to the fields of the dead where he would soon go.
The sky disappeared as the shadow of the Kanosee soldier