Bleda stared at the Cheren as they galloped across the plain, hurtling at the White-Wing shield wall positioned at the field’s centre. He felt his jaw clenching, muscles bunching as he watched the Cheren loose a storm of arrows at the shield wall at full gallop, the front row peeling left and right in perfect timing, galloping along the front of the shield wall, loosing more arrows as the row behind charged, then peeled away, a perfect manoeuvre repeated in constant cycle, giving the shield wall no respite, no time to clear their dead. He heard warriors scream, saw them fall. He felt a grudging respect for the Cheren, to see them galloping into battle, their courage as they charged the shield wall, the beautiful lines of their columns, their skill.
He hated them.
Jin is down there, leading them.
But there was no way to get at her.
He had repositioned his force higher on the hills, taken the barrels of fire arrows with him. His endless hail of missiles had thinned the Revenants flooding the wall, and after that flying draig had smashed a hole in the wall’s centre, he had helped to hold the Revenants back as the White-Wings had retreated.
But his position meant that there was now a river of Revenants between him and the Cheren.
Strangely, even though he and his Sirak had slain far more Revenants than all of the White-Wings on this eastern edge of the battle, the Revenants were completely ignoring him and his warriors, were still charging in a frenzied mass at the White-Wing shield wall on the plain behind the first ditch.
He lifted his last fire arrow, nocked it, drew and loosed. The arrow flew through the air, trailing fire and smoke, hundreds of other arrows arcing and dropping through the air, punching into Revenants as they swarmed across the fire-dotted plain.
The creature Bleda had aimed at stumbled, the arrow catching it in the shoulder, spinning it. For a long moment it teetered on the edge of a fire-pit, arms flailing, then it fell backwards into the flames.
A knot of Revenants were moving across the plain, threading in between the burning pits of fire. They were moving differently from the others. A solid mass of them, slower, but with more purpose. As Bleda watched, they stopped, one of them at the centre looking up at the hill from where the flaming arrows had been coming. Straight at Bleda. It was a woman, long hair lank and stuck to her skull. She pointed at Bleda, opened her mouth and issued a ululating cry, that felt like insects crawling inside Bleda’s skull, behind his eyes.
Revenants stopped in their steady stream towards the White-Wings, looked up the hill, began to run at Bleda.
“One of Gulla’s captains,” Bleda hissed, fingering the twenty-four grey-tipped arrows he had.
He turned, ran to his horse and leaped into his saddle.
“Ellac, you’re in charge here. Rune archers, with me,” he called, and then he was spurring his horse into motion, breaking into a canter. Ruga, Yul and a score of riders following him.
They charged at the Revenants.
Creatures were running towards them, converging on Bleda, but he ignored them, eyes fixed on the woman who had pointed at him. She was still there, standing between two pits of fire, staring at him.
Bleda felt for his bow, his other fist reaching for arrows, a glance to make sure they were grey-fletched.
Smoke billowed in front of him, hiding the Revenant captain.
Another Revenant appeared at the edge of his vision, leaping at him, arms outstretched. Two arrows punched into it, a spurt of blue flame as it was hurled to the ground. Ruga and Yul.
“Cover me,” Bleda cried, his thighs and knees tensing, putting pressure on his horse, and he was swerving between pits of fire, turf spraying, smoke rolling over them. Heat flared from one pit as his horse’s hooves skidded and they swerved too close to the flames, the stench of singed hair, then they were balanced again. Revenants leaped at him, then fell away with flashes and spurts of blue flame, his companions’ arrows keeping him safe.
And then he saw her again, moving now in her swift, jerking fashion, away from him, through the maze of pits. More Revenants were swarming towards him, hundreds of them. Bleda loosed an arrow, then another, took a long breath, then let the third fly.
The first arrow slammed into the Revenant captain’s side, staggering her, a ripple of blue flame shimmering up her ribs. The second sliced into the back of her leg and she stumbled, dropping to one knee, more blue flame. She looked back at him with a snarl on her face.
Revenants leaped at him, ten, twelve, more. Too many for his guards to cull.
His third arrow punched into the Revenant captain’s eye. Blue flame pulsed, spiralling out from her eye socket, juddering through her whole body. She collapsed on the ground, legs jerking, arms twitching, then she was still.
The Revenants jumping at him fell like rocks, thumped still and lifeless to the ground.
Bleda reined in his mount, Yul and Ruga catching up with him, his other warriors with them.
All around them Revenants gave a collective sigh and dropped, collapsing to the ground. Hundreds of them, thousands. A still silence hung in the air, and then cheers rang out from the shield wall.
Bleda twisted in his saddle, looked up at his warband on the hill, saw Ellac punching the air with his spear. Bleda grinned. A flick of his reins and his horse walked on, over to the Revenant captain. He dismounted and knelt by her corpse, pulled his three runed arrows free. They came out with a sucking, tearing sound. He wiped them clean and slipped them back into his quiver.
One of his palms was flat on the turf, bracing him as he crouched beside the Revenant’s corpse. He felt a tremor in the ground, heard screams filtering across the field. A few strides and he was back in the saddle, looking to the west.
Where the Cheren were still charging the centre’s shield wall in a perfect loop.
There was no longer a river of Revenants blocking his way.
He gave Yul and Ruga a cold smile, leaned in his saddle and spoke quickly to them.