Elfsorrow

The roar of battle was deafening, even from here. The desultory thud of spells punctuated the yell of orders, the cries of panic and pain, the whi

Reinforcements ran in from both sides, groups of fighters moving under questionable mage protection. Shields flared under the bombardment; those that cracked leaving their charges helpless to the merciless mana power. And older men, women and youths were everywhere – supplying arrows, water and food where they could and carrying the injured and dying from the battlefield.

All around The Raven the air smelled of blood, sweat and fire. HotRain sluiced out of the sky over the support and reinforcements, ForceCones smashed out, DeathHail sliced away at groups of cavalry. Across the lines, ruptured earth and heaved stone were the residue of EarthHammers.

The Unknown turned to Darrick. 'How do you see it?' he shouted over the din.

'Xetesk can't outflank.' Darrick pointed away west. 'They must be fully committed on all fronts. We need to get down there onto the field. Speak to Izack.'

'Got a couple of ideas for him?'

Darrick nodded, smiling, and The Unknown could see him yearning to be there in the midst of the confusion, a snorting horse under him, blood-slick sword in hand.

'We'll also get the best intelligence on the elven positions.'

'I don't see any Protectors here,' mentioned The Unknown.

'No, interesting, isn't it?'

'Raven!' The Unknown turned. 'We are leaving.'

The big warrior led them back to their horses, the animals tethered in a group fifty yards from the observation point. They looked tired and forlorn, eyeing their riders with weary resignation.

'Hirad, Thraun, flank positions,' said The Unknown as they mounted, the noise of battle diminishing just enough for normal speech. 'Mages, inside the arc, and if you have enough for a SpellShield, now's the time. Darrick, centre with me. Ren, Aeb, you've got the rear.'

The Raven kicked away, drawing cheers from some they passed. The Unknown took them quickly down the slope and into the maelstrom. Among the fighting, the untutored eye saw nothing but a storm of blood, mud, men and steel. Immediately to their left, a pair burst from the mass, Xeteskian tumbling over Dordovan in the mud, punches flying, each man desperate to get a blade round for a killing blow. But the Xeteskian was lost in the midst of the enemy. He was hauled up by Dordovan hands, stabbed half a dozen times and dropped face down.

Far out on the right flank, The Unknown saw a man who had trained under the best. Izack was leading a charge into a confused area of fighting. Xeteskian spells had crashed through one too many SpellShields and allied reinforcements had died before they reached the line. Archer support was weak and it was all the remaining mages could do to shield those who still stood.

As the Lysternan cavalry galloped in, Izack's booming voice could be heard across the battlefield. Foot soldiers pushed away and disengaged, giving the horsemen maximum space to move through.

'Tight!' roared Izack. 'Tight!'

The cavalry kept close form, dodging their own men as best they could, angling in steeply to avoid the worst of pike and spear to thump into the Xeteskian lines, driving men back, trampling those who failed to react, using their swords to fend off and scatter.

Behind them, the allies regrouped as arrows peppered the momentarily disordered Xeteskians. Izack's cavalry withdrew and both sides ran in again, marshalled by the calls of field captains and lieutenants. Izack was now clear, cantering past the next section of Lysternan horsemen who took orders, wheeled and rode hard on a flanking manoeuvre.

The Unknown led The Raven across the back of the fighting line, cloaks flowing, arrows falling around them but bouncing off the HardShield lattice covering much of the allied rear.

'Izack!' bellowed Darrick as they approached.

The cavalry commander hauled his horse around, his face splitting into a broad smile in recognition of the voice of his erstwhile general. He leaned out of his saddle and clasped hands with Darrick. The Raven stopped and surrounded him, well out of spell and missile range.

'Dear Gods, General, it lightens my heart to see you!'

'And I you, though I'd wished for kinder circumstances.'

Izack nodded, glancing quickly over The Raven, his eyes never straying too far from the battle.

'What brings you here?' he asked. 'I'd heard The Raven were near. Blackthorne told us as much but I thought you'd be headed back south again by now.'

'So did we,' agreed Darrick. 'But we need to find the elves. We believe one of the TaiGethen cells has recovered something vital to them.'

'I've heard nothing,' said Izack. 'The elves are all fighting further east. They're with a Dordovan force trying to reach Xetesk's east gate. They're incredible fighters, so they say. The painted ones particularly.'

'You'd better believe it,' said The Unknown. 'One to one as good as Protectors, in my opinion.'

'And in Xetesk's too,' said Izack. 'The Protectors are heavily committed against them.'

'Are you in contact?' asked Darrick.

'Only by riders. Can't spare mages for Communion.'

Darrick nodded. 'We have to get to them. How's the land in between?'

'Safe enough,' said Izack. 'Don't stray too far west, Xeteskian cavalry is moving out there.' He smiled. 'Go on, tell me what I'm doing wrong.'

'Nothing,' said Darrick. 'But weight your left. Keep cavalry out there. We've seen an army on the march north. Don't get caught.'

'Know about it already,' said Izack. 'Black Wings. They're here to attack Xetesk, I think. They might even help us.'

'Not by choice,' said The Unknown. 'Don't underestimate them.'

'One other thing,' said Darrick. 'Their cavalry commander here isn't confident. He sees things too late. Next time you see a breach, you might try riding through it, but take half of your men with you.'

The two Lysternans shook hands again.

'You know I'm supposed to arrest you,' said Izack. 'Pity I didn't recognise you.'

'Another day,' said Darrick. 'I'll come back, answer for my actions.'

'Raven!' Hirad took up his reins. 'Raven with me!'

Taking The Unknown's place at the head of the arc, he galloped away towards the east gate of Xetesk. The dusk was deepening when The Raven finally rode into the allies' forward camp on the eastern battle front. With the coming of night fighting had ceased, and the echoing memories of the battle clashed with the enforced calm of the aftermath.

The Raven had been forced to move slowly. Their horses' exhaustion, marauding bands of Xeteskian cavalry and the deep suspicion of Dordovan patrols had all made for a circuitous and difficult passage. But a sympathetic finger had pointed them the way to the mess tents and the elven encampment. And although they drew glances that ranged from awe to open hostility, they had eaten and their horses were picketed, rubbed down and fed.

With Ilkar leading, they walked into the quiet of the elven camp. Most were already asleep, stretched out under the cloudy sky, but those still awake displayed the signs of people who had experienced their first day on the battlefield: shock, deep weariness, disbelief.

Hirad sympathised. They would have feared for their lives every heartbeat, and finished the day bruised, deafened, exhausted and guilty that they lived when their friends had died. And worse was to come. It would have to be faced all over again as dawn broke, but with every muscle screaming for rest and the risks as great, if not greater. But for these elves, there was also the fact that they would never have seen such a mass of humanity in one place all trying to kill each other. Never mind their willingness to fight and die for their cause and never mind their skill and mental strength. Nothing prepared you for that first day of mass battle. Nothing.