Wrath of a Mad God ( The Darkwar, Book 3)

Valko now drew his sword and ordered his men to be both cautious and silent. Pug marvelled at the discipline shown by the Deathknights of the White, for caution and quiet were hardly hallmarks of the Dasati warrior.

 

A lever was tripped and a massive stone wall now slid sideways, revealing a gaping black tunnel leading upwards. Valko moved forward and Pug found himself amazed once more by the acuity of Dasati vision and their lack of need for torches as long as there was the merest hint of light or heat.

 

They moved into the darkness.

 

 

 

 

Kaspar signalled to Servan, who turned his horse and rode as if a thousand devils were chasing him. He had his sword drawn, ready to fight if need be, but his mission was to carry a message to a sorely beleaguered Anasati command bearing the brunt of the Dasati assault. He got close enough to Lord Jeurin, to shout, ‘Now! My lord, now!’

 

The Tsurani noble had been barely seventeen years of age when word of his father’s death had reached him. Despite losing his father, along with the family’s First Advisor, Force Commander, and all senior leaders attending the High Council, he had shown a remarkable intelligence and resolve. He had stood ready to defend himself, but willed himself to not fight until given permission. Now he had been told to put his soldiers in harm’s way, and to fight a delaying retreat, but no longer would he let his soldiers die protecting him. He saluted Servan, then shouted, ‘Withdraw in order! Withdraw!’

 

Servan saw him push forward, past retreating Anasati warriors, who were doing their best to delay hundreds of Dasati Deathknights while hundreds more pushed in from behind. The young ruler was afire with rage, venting the pent-up fury he had held in check since the death of his father. He leaped past one of his falling men to strike downward, hamstringing a Dasati Deathknight, who reached for him with an outstretched mail gauntlet, missing the young Tsurani warrior by mere inches. ‘Back!’ shouted Jeurin. ‘Retreat slowly!’

 

Another Dasati Deathknight leaped forward, but the two Anasati warriors flanking Jeurin intercepted him. Individually, the Tsurani were no match for the Deathknights, but these soldiers had trained together for years, and they were protecting the life of their young ruling lord. One took a shield-shattering blow that drove him to his knees, but the other took advantage of a slight opening and drove his sword into the exposed area under the arm of the Deathknight’s armour. Orange blood spurted out in a fountain as he yanked loose his blade, and the three fell back another step.

 

The Deathknight tried to raise his sword arm, but couldn’t.

 

The weapon fell from fingers unable to grip, and he went to his knees. One of the Tsurani warriors was about to step forward to deliver a killing blow, but Jeurin grabbed him by the armour at the back of his neck and yanked hard. ‘No!’ he shouted. ‘Back! Fall back slowly!’ Then to himself as much as the others, he said in wide-eyed wonder, ‘It’s working. The outworlder’s plan is working.’

 

On all sides, the Tsurani were pressing in, save the middle, where Jeurin was withdrawing. This forced the Dasati to press forward in a large circle, with those Deathknights caught in the middle unable to reach the Tsurani. Suddenly the majority of the Dasati were forced to watch helplessly as the surrounding Tsurani cut and hacked down every Deathknight before them. Now, if they pushed forward, all they achieved was to shove their own men into the waiting Tsurani line.

 

The most senior Deathknight in the centre looked around, helpless, uncertain of his next move; an experience no Dasati had ever encountered before.

 

Alenburga watched all this in admiration. ‘That young man is worthy of any honour the Emperor wants to give him,’ he said to Kaspar and Erik.

 

‘They all are,’ said Erik.

 

The Dasati were now forced together in an even tighter cluster, and Alenburga waited to see a break between those now surrounded by the Tsurani and those still streaming down the trail from the Black Mount. When a break occurred, he said, ‘Signal Miranda it is time!’

 

A Tsurani soldier standing nearby picked up a very tall post upon which a banner of bright green hung, and began waving it back and forth.

 

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