almost possible to forget why they’re here.”
“Almost, but not quite,” she answered, turning to issue orders to her officers. Drums all along the defenses began to rattle out a stirring beat, and the housecarls began their traditional chant: “OUT! Out! Out! OUT! Out! Out! OUT! Out! Out!” The rhythm echoed along the lines, swelling to a crescendo as more and more soldiers took it up. The leopards and human troopers of the cavalry stood with Thirrin and the Thar, as did the white werewolves, who had been through so much with the human Queen that they’d come to regard her as their own. Farther along the line, the Hypolitan, under their new Basilea, readied themselves for the onslaught, the deep voice of Olememnon shouting out orders and steadying the line. And still the housecarls chanted their challenge, “OUT! Out! Out! OUT! Out! Out! OUT! Out! Out!” mingling with a synchronized rattle as the young boys and girls of the drum corps beat a fighting rhythm for the coming attack.
Out on the plain, the enemy came on, the fife and drums of their own military bands echoing eerily in the dark. As soon as they came within range, the Icemark’s ballistas and rockapults launched an attack against the advancing horde, but they never wavered in their advance. Within a few paces, longbows began to hiss all along the defenses as flights of arrows were shot into the dark sky, causing the advancing line of torches to dance and sink as the Imperial soldiers fell under the onslaught of the terrible rain. But still they came on, unstoppable in their thousands, those in the forefront pushed on by the press of soldiers behind.
Soon they were within range of the javelins thrown by regiments of fighting women in the Hypolitan army, who carried crescent-shaped shields and were deadly accurate with their throwing spears. The high-pitched crack of the opening musket volley sounded in reply, and the solid lead shot smashed into the defenders, bringing down the first casualties on the Icemark’s side.
Thirrin now drew her sword and called out the war cry of the House of Lindenshield: “The enemy is upon us! Blood! Blast! And Fire! Blood! Blast! And Fire!”
A great shout rose up from her soldiers, and they surged forward to meet the first ranks of the enemy. The roar of battle could be heard across the plain, and immediately the sheer weight of the Imperial army bore the defenders back. Soon they were being forced back up the slope of the second embankment in the triple line of defenses. Thirrin called aloud the first note of the cavalry paean, and immediately her troopers, leopard and human, answered, singing out the war hymn with a growing ferocity as they drove their feet into the earth and refused to retreat farther. The werewolf guard clustered around her, howling and snarling viciously as they struck out at the Imperial soldiers or leaped on them to rip out their throats.
Farther along the line, Olememnon and the Hypolitans were being pushed hard by a massive phalanx of pikes, the giant spears thrusting through and over their shield-wall, slashing throats, piercing eyes, and splitting skulls. Time and again the warriors dived between the long spears to hack at the soldiers who wielded them, but as soon as they fell, others took their place. The Hypolitans rained javelins down into the press of enemy soldiers, and the new Basilea led countercharges into the phalanx, driving them back briefly before fighting a controlled retreat as the Imperial regiments came on again in overwhelming numbers.
Meanwhile, all along the line, the fyrd soldiers fought as well as the housecarls, but they lacked the experience and stamina of the professional soldiers and gradually their shield-wall began to buckle under the enormous pressure of the enemy’s numbers. Thirrin sent as many housecarls as could be spared to shore up their line, but soon her own position was too hard pressed to send any more help, and the line buckled further.
Bellorum watched as much as he could through his monoculum, but the light provided by the torches was only fitful and everything was a seething mass of confusion. He lowered his spyglass in exasperation and turned to look at the horizon, where the full moon would rise. Sure enough, a faint glow was strengthening, and as he watched, a sliver of brilliant light rose into the sky. He smiled faintly; now his troops would be able to see exactly who they were slaughtering.
Slowly the