‘Javelins!’ Nikolas roared over his shoulder.
He saw the long spears fly overhead. They plunged into the bellies of the rushing giants and sprouted from the chests of the yellow-cloaked shoulders. Nikolas set his sights on a twelve-foot tall giant directly in front of him as a soldier on the creature’s right suddenly fell with a javelin in his throat, blood gushing from his mouth.
The two armies collided, and everything fell into chaos.
Nikolas ducked a swipe of the giant’s club and charged inside its reach. He jabbed his spear up and into the creature’s throat, grateful for the weapon’s length. Crimson liquid erupted in a torrent, covering him from head to toe. The monster fell and Nikolas turned to face the new threat of an Ilean soldier. The man’s spear came forward but Nikolas took it with the shield on his left arm, then quickly thrust in and out of his opponent’s upper chest.
Arrow shafts flew in both directions as Nikolas’s archers sought to clear the walls. Reacting with hardened instinct, Nikolas dipped his head and raised his arm as a shaft clattered against his shield.
He heard a throaty growl as a female ogre with a spear that dwarfed his own thrust her weapon at his head. Nikolas weaved and aimed his spear at her chest, but the creature was quick and moved to the side. Her strong hand pulled his spear away from him, throwing it to the ground.
The ogre’s spear thrust again and Nikolas narrowly deflected it with his shield, taking the shattering force of the blow on his left arm as he gritted his teeth. He drew his sword in one swift movement, leaping high and slashing down, striking the exposed place where the neck joined the shoulder. The sharp steel bit deep and the ogre fell.
The two forces shifted back and forth as each struggled not to give any ground. The arrows overhead had now lessened to staggered volleys as Nikolas’s men cleared the walls.
‘Link shields!’ he cried.
There was a hoplite on his left and another on his right. His army’s training came to the fore as the Xanthian soldiers formed a long line – shield to shield, shoulder to shoulder.
‘Forward!’
He felt the strength of a second rank of men at his back, holding him fast as the hoplites took a step forward in unison. The enemy charged, but came up against the hard wall of the shields and every man’s right arm thrust, whether he held a spear or a sword.
Ilean soldiers fell screaming, only to be trampled over and replaced by the next rank of yellow-cloaked fighters behind. Bodies now littered the landscape. Nikolas’s men dispatched the twitching wounded.
‘Overhead!’ someone behind him cried.
A dragon surrounded by a clutch of furies swooped down from above, but Nikolas’s archers were prepared and shafts peppered the monsters’ bodies, halting the attack before it began. The winged creatures fell to the ground in the midst of the Xanthian soldiers. The eldren would not try an aerial attack again.
Nikolas saw expressions of fear on the Ilean soldiers opposite, as each time they came forward they met the solid wall of shield and spear. He began to think that he could win the battle. Leaving the line and allowing a man from behind to come to take his place, he looked for somewhere he could gain a vantage and spied a small hill.
‘We have them!’ he shouted to his men, who roared back their support.
Soon Nikolas had a view of the battle. He saw that his line was thinner, but that was as it should be; his officers knew their business and needed to keep the line extended to prevent their forces being outflanked.
The organized chaos of the battle showed two masses of infantry facing each other, milling as they cut each other down, but the army of Ilea was giving ground.
Then, hearing a cry and seeing one of his men pointing, eyes wide with fear, Nikolas looked up.
A dozen winged creatures, three dragons encircled by a clutch of smaller furies, flew high in the sky, well out of bowshot. They didn’t lose height until they were far from Nikolas’s archers, well behind the fighting, then they swiftly landed.
A shimmer of smoke went around them as they shifted.
The gray clouds cleared and now he was looking at a dozen giants and ogres. They charged down from the hills, heading directly for the archers behind the center of the line.
Nikolas saw the immediate danger.
But for once, he didn’t know what to do. Such a thing would not be possible with an army of men.
With relentless momentum, the snarling monsters struck the back of his army. The occasional arrow shaft plunged into leathery hide, but the lightly armored archers were completely outclassed. Gnarled fists hammered into skulls, splintering them into bloody pulp in a heartbeat. Meaty hands tore apart one man after another.