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

 

Miranda was tiring but she was still energized by her chance to lash out at the enemy. Not since the war against the Emerald Queen’s army had she felt this outraged or so focused in her anger. Down there were those who had put her husband and her eldest son at risk, captured her and subjected her to insult and indignity; she was more than happy to be the architect of their chastisement.

 

But she found that focus was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing moment, as fatigue began to rob her of much-needed energy. She took a moment to glance first to one side, then the other, and saw that some of her fellow magicians were also beginning to show signs of exhaustion.

 

Gathering as much energy as she could muster, Miranda cast down a huge ball of crimson energy. This served two purposes. Firstly, it was causing serious harm to a large number of Dasati now held up in the river pass, with their way downward stalled by the immobile forces in front of them, and their way back to the Black Mount jammed by those following behind. And secondly, it signalled to Alenburga that it was time to unleash the cavalry.

 

The massive red flash was also seen by the Lord of the Tolkadeska, a sixteen-year-old lad who had never been in a serious fight in his life, let alone a battle. He tried to keep his voice from breaking as he raised his sword and shouted, ‘Forward!’

 

A thousand horsemen hidden in an arroyo west of and just to the rear of where the Dasati line of march had been severed moved out in orderly fashion. The boy leading them might be without experience, but the riders of the four houses that followed him were not. They were veteran horsemen all. Horses had come to Kelewan during the Riftwar, Kingdom mounts taken as prizes. Kasumi of the Shinzawai had been the first noble to understand the value of cavalry and House Shinzawai had been the first to breed horses on Kelewan.

 

Like Kasumi, many Tsurani nobles quickly became mad for horses across the Empire, and in the decades since then, more horses had come through the rift from Midkemia via trading. Now the Tsurani prided themselves on having light cavalry the equal of any on Midkemia, including the legendary Ashunta horsemen of the Empire of Great Kesh.

 

Every rider was as anxious to answer this insult to their nation’s sovereignty as those on foot. They were eager to join the battle and drive out the invaders. As the first thousand moved out, two other companies took up position, ready to reinforce when ordered.

 

Young Lord Harumi of the Tolkadeska made a prayer to Chochocan, the Good God, asking not to shame his ancestors by failing in his mission. He raised his sword and shouted, ‘Charge!’ and none of those nearby noticed that his voice broke.

 

Hooves slammed the soil like thousands of hammers at a forge, and the ground shook. Dasati Deathknights on their right flank felt the vibration before they could hear the sound because of the havoc raining down from above as the magicians in the air kept throwing every evil spell of destruction they could conjure at them.

 

The Tsurani cavalry slammed into the left flank of the Dasati, turning a slow retreat into a roiling mass of confusion: On foot each Dasati was the match of dozens of Tsurani, but when they were confronted by cavalry, the odds of their attackers were significantly improved. Dasati Deathknights were bowled over and sent flying into the mass of their own forces retreating up the trail. The fury of the onslaught drove dozens of Deathknights off the trail and down the steep embankment, landing many in the river, where they were pulled under by the weight of their armour.

 

Lord Harumi of the Tolkadeska lashed out with his sword and was easily blocked by an experienced Deathknight, who then quickly reached up and grabbed his leg, pulling him from the saddle. Slammed hard to the ground, the young ruler of his house didn’t have time to raise his sword in defence as the Deathknight drove the point of his sword through’ the traditional laminated hide armour of a Tsurani ruler, ending a line of Tolkadeska lords going back over a thousand years. Those around him took note that the boy brought no shame to his lineage and when he died, his voice didn’t break.

 

 

 

 

Alenburga said, ‘Good. They’re retreating.’ He turned to Zane. ‘Ride to the front and remind our eager Tsurani captains that they are not to enter the last valley at the river’s head – if they get that far.’ As Zane saluted and turned to run to his horse, the old general added, ‘And try not to get killed.’

 

‘Sir!’ Zane snapped a salute as he left the make-shift command post.

 

Erik said, ‘That went well.’

 

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