Sensing their opportunity the enemy threw everything they had at the defenders, the final wave coming surging up the hill. Miro called on reserves of strength he hadn’t known he possessed. He ran, calling the men to him as he approached the break.
Then suddenly he was in it. The avengers were tossing men around like leaves before a wind. Miro knew he had to stop them before anything could be done about the legionnaires.
He signalled to a group of Alturan heavy infantry, their armour slick with blood but still glowing silver. "Go for the legs, get it on the upswing."
The man in front nodded. Miro could see the fear in his eyes.
"I will lead the way," a voice came from behind Miro. Bartolo swept forward, his armoursilk a bright star amongst the chaos. Heartened, the infantry followed him in.
This left the other avenger for Miro.
Miro’s zenblade flared yellow. The avenger turned to watch him, malevolent, its flail twitching one-way, then another. Freed from its rampages the soldiers swarmed into the assaulting legionnaires, leaving Miro alone with the creature.
Miro entered that state he had only found once before, during his testing. He now tried to go further, to add the same strength of purpose to his armoursilk. Fatigue made the effort more than twice as difficult. The song faltered. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, pushing through the fatigue.
The zenblade turned an ethereal blue. The armoursilk took on the lustre of crystal.
He rolled in under the flail. The avenger’s arm punched down where he had been a heartbeat before, the sword impaling the empty ground. Miro stabbed at the creature’s leg but the avenger was quicker, it twisted and the flail came back around, hitting Miro squarely in the chest. His body flew up in the air.
The point of the avenger’s great sword waited for Miro’s body to fall, to impale itself on the blade. Instead, Miro twisted in the air, his zenblade crashing into the sword. Sparks sprayed out, accompanied by a noise like lightning.
The avenger’s sword sheared off halfway.
Far from dead, the avenger’s flail caught Miro again, the spiked ball throwing Miro’s body to the ground, slamming the breath out of him.
His song was lost as he choked, gasping in vain for air to fill his lungs. The broken sword thrust at the ground, Miro rolled to one side, then to the other as it thrust again.
Finally, he gathered enough air to shout.
"Hul-ta-unmar-al-ran!" with the single activation sequence, the zenblade flared red. He leapt up into the avenger’s backswing, his sword held in two hands.
The blade pierced the creature’s skull with a terrible crunching sound. Miro fell back to the ground, coughing and wheezing. With a mighty crash, the imperial avenger fell to the earth beside him.
"Here, Captain" a voice said.
Miro turned; a soldier was offering him his hand. He lurched to his feet, his breath finally returning.
"Thank you, soldier," he said.
He looked around. Bartolo was struggling. Half of the heavy infantry had been mauled by the second avenger.
Miro chanted as he ran, his armoursilk becoming comfortably bright. "Hold for me!" he cried.
Without waiting to see if Bartolo heard him, he leapt atop Batrolo’s back and jumped. His leap was impossibly high, taking him over the avenger’s head, past its field of vision. He thrust his zenblade down at its neck as he flew past, landing heavily on the avenger’s other side. He turned just as the avenger fell to the ground. Bartolo followed with a sweeping cut, taking the creature’s head off.
Bartolo grinned at Miro, rubbing his back theatrically. "I didn’t hear you. You’re not that light you know."
Miro smiled back.
~
AFTER a massive counterattack, the enemy finally withdrew, leaving the defenders to lick their wounds.
Miro had traversed the full length of the line several times during the fighting. Sweat and blood covered him from head to toe. He’d picked up a small, but deep, cut on his neck when a prismatic orb had exploded near him, sending splinters of blood and bone in all directions.
He looked about him. There were perhaps a thousand men left. Corpses littered the battlefield in all directions, friend and foe alike. The men had given everything they had on this day. Everything and more.
Miro found Tuok standing on the ridge. The man grinned up at him, as indestructible as ever. Remembering when Tuok had taught him about Seranthia, and the way of the world, Miro grinned in return.
It was then that he noticed a spreading red stain above Tuok’s waist. Seeing his gaze, Tuok nodded, before lifting his sword up in the air.
"Come on, you imperial scum!" Tuok shouted down from the ridge. Miro clapped the man on the shoulder. The wound was a death sentence. They both knew it.
"Captain?" a soldier said, standing at Miro’s elbow.
"Yes?"
"Lord Rorelan, he is asking for you."
"Of course," Miro said. He felt dazed. He had no idea what time it was. He looked up. The sun was starting to lower in the sky. Some time in the afternoon. Had it really been only one day?