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The mountain sides flickered green, growing brighter until the whole pass appeared as if a corrupt sun had risen. Toryn and the guards stumbled across the uneven boards as they fled. Hooves clattered on the wooden slates. Toryn shot a glance over his shoulder. A dozen, once-proud horses, with heads lolling and protruding tongues from fleshless skulls, bore their dead riders. Behind, more guards gathered, numbering close to thirty to form a ghastly militia.

Toryn reached the end of the walkway. Odrun struggled to catch his breath, but the Lower Gate was still some distance away. Harruld hooked his arm under Odrun’s. ‘Come on, old boy. Can’t let the dead outrun you, eh?'

Odrun staggered to a halt. He stooped and gasped. ‘This body’s made for fighting… not running. Just need to… catch my breath. Just need a moment and I’ll be fine.’

Toryn checked behind. ‘A moment’s all we’ve got.’ On the walkway, the horse leading the charge faltered. Its front legs buckled then snapped. The beast slammed into the boards, throwing its rider over the edge. The knight struck the rocks and shattered like a plate. Toryn grimaced. ‘That’ll slow their progress.’

Harruld lifted Odrun to his feet. ‘Come on, big man. You’ve had your rest. Now let’s get to the gate and hold them ghouls from there.’ He laughed. ‘We'll have earned our supper today, eh?’

Odrun managed a smile. ‘Been looking forward to that ham all day.’ He straightened. ‘Ready. Come on then, Harry. Nothing gets between me and my supper.’

They set off just as the stricken horse was bundled off the pier, and the chaotic charge of the dead resumed. Fortunately, the First Horse were not what they once were, and their advance was no faster than a stumbling trot. Even so, a trot was still a match for the two large and aging guards, and they barely arrived at the gatehouse in time to close the inner gates.

Odrun slumped against the ancient wood as Harruld rammed the heavy beam into place. ‘That should keep ‘em out. Can’t think those scrawny scoundrels will have the strength to smash their way through solid oak.’ He looked up at Toryn. ‘This gatehouse was built to keep our people out of the pass, not for an attack from the south. That's the job of the big gate. But while it should keep those dead fellows out, we best play it safe, eh? I’ll raise the alarm.’

Toryn agreed. ‘Wouldn’t hurt to have more than the three of us. And what if the rest rise up? There must be at least four thousand yet to be moved.’

Odrun glanced up, still gasping for air. ‘Now there’s a thought. Thirty or so we could handle from here. But a few thousand? I don’t like them odds.’

Harruld made sure the beam was secure. ‘Oddy. You take Toryn to the parapet and keep an eye on them. I’ll sound the horn and get the boys down here.’

Toryn helped Odrun squeeze his large frame through the narrow doorway and up the spiral staircase. The big guard puffed and blew as he muttered under his breath. ‘This is an outrage. It ain't natural. It ain’t right.’ The horn blared as they emerged from the stairs and into the cool air of the parapet. Toryn rushed to the wall. Below, horses whinnied a pitiful call from their emaciated throats, sounding more like yelping foxes than the fine beasts they had once been. A ragged line of Archonian guards lined up to assail the gate. Above their heads, a faint, green haze hung as if their spirits struggled to free themselves from their broken bodies and return to the plains. A knight of the First Horse nudged his mount. It hobbled towards them just as Harruld crashed through the doorway, carrying three bows and a quiver of arrows. ‘Here we go.’ He peered over the wall. ‘Not sure how much use these will be against the dead, but it might spoil their evening if we can hit ‘em in the eye.’ A horn replied from Archonholm. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Won’t be long. The lads will be here soon.’ He chuckled. ‘Bet they won’t be expecting this.’

The remaining horses limped behind their leader, bumping into each other as they crowded the foot of the gate. The knights raised their blunted swords and hammered the oak with the pommels of their swords. Odrun jeered. ‘If that's all they've got, we won’t be needing reinforcements. They can do that all night, it’ll never crack.’

Harruld nocked an arrow. ‘Anyways, can’t have ‘em scratching the woodwork.’ He leaned over and let one fly. Toryn joined him and aimed at a gap in a broken helmet. His stomach clenched at the sickening crack as his arrow struck a rider’s skull. But the knight continued his futile attack with the arrow jutting out of his head. ‘Keep going, lad.’ Harruld leveled his bow. ‘Let’s see how many we can spike ‘em with before they give up.’

They shot a dozen or so arrows but failed to stop them. Odrun laughed. 'Would you look at that? It’s an army of huckles.'

Harruld grunted. ‘Whatever they look like, arrows are useless against these dead folk.’

‘Rocks.’ Toryn glanced behind. ‘We need rocks. Very useful at Drunsberg.’

Odrun groaned. ‘Now ain’t that the thing. There are more rocks than we can count out there, and thousands piled up on the other side of the ravine, but not one to be had here.’

To their left, something clattered on the wall. Toryn turned. ‘Ladders?’ He stuck his head over the wall. ‘It’s a decoy. The knights aren’t trying to break through.’ Farther along, the guards had torn the rails from the walkway and propped them against the wall. Toryn ran to the ladder as three soldiers climbed up with surprising speed. He nocked his last arrow and let it fly as the first clambered over. It struck him full in the chest. The soldier stared down at the arrow as if unsure of what had hit him. To Toryn's dismay, the dead man shrugged and drew his broken blade.

Harruld bellowed. ‘Swords! Time to get in their faces, lads.’ Toryn and Odrun flanked him as they hurtled into the attackers scrambling to their feet. Harruld swung hard, removing the head of the first. He yelled. ‘Best way to stop ‘em! Don’t hold back.’ Toryn parried a lunge from the second. Odrun blocked a blow from the third. Yet despite the sorry state of their attackers, they fought with purpose and strength. The experienced guards and Toryn struck back, and soon the headless bodies of the first over the wall lay at their feet. But the weight of numbers forced the defenders back.

Eight formed a line along the parapet. Harruld recovered his breath. ‘Careful, ladies. These fellows are getting organized.’ Behind the formation, a large hand grasped the wall. A dented helmet appeared, followed by a scarred face with a tufty, gray beard.

‘By the Three, Harruld! It’s Glamdel.’ A giant of a dead Archonian forced his way through the battlements. His wide, yellow eyes stared at Toryn, but whether he grinned, or whether it was the lack of flesh on his face that revealed his broken teeth, he could not tell. In his hand, he brandished a long, broad sword.

Harruld and Odrun edged back and stood with Toryn. Harruld gasped. ‘The brute was a handful when alive. I saw him take down an angry boar with that sword. One blow, that’s all it took. Who knows what he can do now he’s one of the dead?’ The line parted, allowing Glamdel to take his place in the center. Toryn retched. His eyes watered.

Harruld choked. ‘Ye gods. That stench! Glammy was never one to wash, but by the Three, he out stinks the rest of the dead put together. That’s enough to take us down without a fight.’

Odrun stammered. ‘He’s… he’s got a thick neck, Harry. Hope our blades are sharp enough.’ He winced as he set his stance.

‘You injured, Oddy?’

‘Took a blow to my dodgy leg. Had worse though. Don’t you worry about me.’ Four more grinning dead joined the green rank.

Harruld looked over his shoulder. ‘This ain’t the best position, lads. They’ll outflank us easy.’ The line crept forward, driven on by Glamdel. Toryn’s vision blurred. He stared. They moved as if commanded by an unseen force. Within each opponent, he saw the ghostly outline of a figure. Not a guard, but akin to the squat Ruuk soldiers he had fought at Drunsberg. Bile rose in Toryn’s throat — it was if the Ruuk were cloaked in the skins of the dead.

The echo of horses’ hooves clattered on the bridge spanning the chasm. Harruld sighed. ‘They took their time, but help is here. Right then, lads, let’s find another line to defend.’

Odrun hobbled on one leg. ‘You go. I’ll occupy the big man. Give you a head start, eh.’

‘Don’t be daft, Oddy. There’s no need. We can all make it back.’

Odrun winced, grabbing the back of his leg. ‘I’m hamstrung, Harry. I won’t make it to the stairs. You two go. Glammy’s broad sword will take off our heads as soon as we turn tail.’ He raised his blade. ‘Besides, I’ve got a score to settle with that lout.’

‘It’s not him. He’s dead. It’s just his flesh ‘n bones. Who knows what’s inside his head now?’

‘Don’t argue with me, Harry. Just this once, go with what I say. We haven’t got all night.’

Harruld clutched Odrun’s arm. ‘Not here, Oddy. This ain’t your time. Not against these stinking ghouls.’

But Odrun stood his ground in the face of the looming menace. ‘I can handle this one. Anyhow, I’m ready for the plain should I—’ Glamdel tipped back his head and rasped a challenge. He raised his blade. Odrun lunged, forcing the giant to parry his blow. Odrun yelled over his shoulder. ‘Go! Both of you.’

‘Not a step back, my friend.’ Harruld sprang. ‘For the Three!’ Toryn leaped after them. The heavy sword of Glamdel sliced down, but Odrun was quick for a large man, even when injured. He dipped. Sparks flew as Glamdel’s blade struck the flagstones. Odrun jabbed up and caught Glamdel’s helmet. The helmet fell, revealing a bald and scarred head. Glamdel staggered. Toryn swung. A jolt shot up his arm as the blade sliced into the giant’s brawny neck. Glamdel’s eyes bulged. But he refused to drop.

Odrun cried out. ‘Keep going! He can’t take much more.’ He threw his weight at two guards to his right and knocked them back. He slashed, severing the arm of one, and the leg from another. But still the grim line advanced. Glamdel went for Odrun, swinging his long blade as if to cleave him in two. Odrun was distracted by another. Toryn rushed Glamdel, thrusting at the gap between his breastplate and raised arm. His sword jammed into the dead flesh and was wrenched from Toryn’s grip as the giant reeled. But his strike only shifted the giant’s downward blow by inches. Glamdel’s blade slammed onto Odrun’s shoulder. He cried out, dropping his weapon.

‘Oddy!’ Harruld parried a blow and threw his arm around his friend. But Glamdel would not be denied his victory. With Toryn’s blade protruding from his armpit, he launched at Odrun, piercing his leather tunic. Blood spurted from Odrun’s mouth as he fell, taking Harruld with him. Toryn grabbed Odrun's sword and drove its tip at Glamdel's groin. The big guard lurched. Toryn pulled back his blade, then swung hard at Glamdel as his neck came into range. The bones cracked. The Archonian’s head toppled from his neck but did not fall. And neither did the big warrior. He stumbled forward with his head swaying from gray sinews. He took three steps and collapsed at the feet of the stunned reinforcements pouring onto the parapet.

Toryn and Harruld joined the arriving guards and charged at the stragglers, bundling four over the wall. Now only three remained bearing arms. The green glow emanating from their skin flickered and died, and to Toryn’s relief, they crumpled into a heap. He turned back to see Harruld cradling Odrun in his arms. He ran to kneel at his side as Harruld soothed his injured comrade. ‘You big, brave fool, Oddy.’

Odrun coughed, spraying blood onto Harruld’s breastplate. ‘Should’ve put my best armor on, eh?' He grasped Harruld’s arm. ‘I’ll wait for you, my friend. On the plains, I’ll save a farm for you.’

Toryn pushed his hand onto the gaping wound in Odrun’s gut. ‘You’re not done yet. We can get you to the healers.’

Odrun shook his head. ‘Thanks for trying, but I know when I’m done, lad.’ His eyes stared past Toryn. ‘I can see the barley on the plains.’ He smiled. ‘It’s all golden in the sunshine. Here. I can see the cappy. He made it, Harry. He got his farm after all. I’ll put in a good word for—’ His body braced.

Harruld stroked his old friend’s brow. ‘You lucky sod. Always thought I’d get there first.’ He glanced at the broken bodies of the dead strewn across the flagstones. ‘But if we’re up against this kind of enemy now, I guess it won’t be long before I’ll be joining you. Go now my—’ Odrun slumped. His last breath was briefly visible on Harruld’s breastplate, but soon faded as the big guard departed for the plains. Harruld hugged his fellow warrior close and rocked. His jaw tightened, leaving his last words for Odrun unsaid.