Smoke rose to cloud the battlefield, rolling up from the mass of heaving enemy warriors below. They pressed against the stone wall and swarmed up ladders, seemingly oblivious as the dirigibles emptied their last loads of orbs, their pilots desperate to keep the assault parties clear from the tall heights.
Fear threatened to overwhelm Tiesto as the responsibility pressed down on his shoulders. He kept his back straight, forcing himself to breathe, and he promised himself he would rise to the task. The clarion meant it was time to engage the enemy. Tiesto had to lead his men to victory. His task was to defeat the savage revenants below.
It was midday and the sun blazed with fierce heat. The revenant horde clustered up against the Wall, scrabbling madly, heedless of the raining destruction. In complete contrast, the second force waited in front of the gate in disciplined ranks, ready to charge when their opportunity came.
The enemy commander’s strategy was simple: to open a breach, either by climbing up to the city using their long ladders or by pounding at the gates with their iron-tipped battering rams. Where a strong breach opened, the infantry square would follow.
As the clarion blast hung in the air, Tiesto scanned the hills behind him to see his army ponderously making its way up to the crests of the hills. He cursed every second that passed. Returning his gaze to the city, he saw the handful of dirigibles taking fire from muskets below. The pilots finished releasing their deadly hail and returned back to the city, but not before a dirigible suddenly fell into a spiral, plummeting to the ground and crashing in a shower of sparks.
A gust of wind blew the stench of the battlefield up to the hills, and Tiesto momentarily recoiled. As the summer sun took its toll, the rotten bodies that fought the natural order of things to keep moving were falling to putrefaction.
“Ugh,” a nearby bladesinger said, putting his hand to his mouth.
Couriers in brown, green, blue, purple, and orange ran in all directions, fetching orders and making reports.
“The grenadiers need more time to come forward.”
“High Lord Grigori reports his men are ready.”
“The Legion awaits your command.”
“Do you want my infantry up front?”
“Yes! Hurry!” Tiesto said.
“We can’t wait much longer,” Dain Barden said, standing nearby.
“I know,” Tiesto muttered.
“It’s madness, charging the infantry square and ignoring the revenants at the walls.”
“Enough,” Tiesto said, surprised at his own ability to voice down the huge Akari warrior. “We have our orders.”
Looking down at the infantry square, sizing up those he would soon be fighting, Tiesto saw a cluster of enemy warriors in black-and-white-checkered uniforms at the front of their ranks. Narrowing his vision, he thought he could see a warrior in a three-cornered hat.
“Gorain,” Dain Barden said, noting the direction of his gaze. After the space of ten heartbeats he spoke again. “We’ve been spotted.”
The warrior in the hat waved an arm, and the revenants under his command began to turn to face the threat from the hills.
Tiesto swore.
He’d lost the advantage of surprise. Gorain waved his arm again, and the ranks of revenants wheeled.
“Why aren’t we attacking?” someone cried.
“Miro also said to wait for the light,” Tiesto said.
“We need to charge now!” Dain Barden urged.
“We wait!” Tiesto turned and glared at the huge warrior.
Dain Barden grumbled but backed down. His eyes continued to rove over the battlefield. “Ah, there he is.”
“Who?” Tiesto asked.
“Renrik.” Tiesto saw Dain Barden point toward a gray-robed necromancer on the left flank of the infantry square.
“So many of them,” someone said.
“I don’t see any light!” someone else muttered.
“On your command, High Lord Tiesto. We’re ready.”
“Good,” Tiesto said.
But he still waited for the light Miro had promised him.
Disciplined order came to the revenant army as Gorain and the necromancers formed them into a longer line, more of a rectangle than a square. As he waited, Tiesto counted along the files until he’d passed one hundred. He then repeated the same process as he counted the ranks.
“I count ten thousand, give or take,” Tiesto said.
“This won’t be easy,” said the Dain.
Tiesto shaded his eyes from the glare as he waited for the promised signal. Surely Miro wouldn’t let him down?
A sudden pinprick of light sparked at the base of the Wall, on the extreme right-hand side of Tiesto’s vision. The light grew brighter and brighter until it outshone the sun, though it was midday. Tiesto’s heart began to hammer. A second horn blasted from the city, as if responding to the light.
Tiesto tore his gaze away from the light and instead focused on the force formed up in ranks in front of him. The emperor had been clear: Tiesto was to concentrate on this enemy above all else.
“Let’s do this,” the Dain said.
“Send word. We attack! ” Tiesto roared.