Richard Baker - Avenger

They stood in silence for a short while, watching as the soldiers below took their places. “Assumin’ we’re not all killed in the next half hour, how long d’ you mean to hold the hill?” the dwarf asked.

“As long as I can. Until I know that he’s failed, I still have hope that somehow Geran will succeed in his task,” Kara replied. “If he’s only been delayed, we might still-” She broke off suddenly, as the soldiers below gave a chorus of war cries and began to surge up the slopes, the runehelms leading the way. She shared one brief look with the dwarf captain, and called for her standard-bearer. “Sergeant Vossen! Pass the word to stand to!” All around her, the Shieldsworn companies stood up, shucking cloaks and hoods and strapping shields into place as they formed ranks at the top of the bluff.

“Good luck to ye,” Kendurkkel said. “I go!” He jogged off toward the Icehammers, who held the back side of the hill.

For her own part, Kara motioned for Vossen to follow and headed for the middle of Wester’s shield, which guarded the relatively low south face of the hill; the north face was too steep to climb, and Merrith Darosti’s shield blocked the draw. Sergeant Kolton and the House Guards joined her as she took up a place in the middle of Wester’s shield. There was no reserve left; this was the spot where the fight would be decided.

“Here we go again,” Wester said to her. The landowner-turned-captain was tired, and he moved with a bad limp from a wound to his left leg, but his eyes still flashed with pugnacious anger. “Haven’t they figured out we’re not going to let ourselves get pushed off this hill?”

“It seems not,” Kara answered. She motioned to Vossen. “All archers, fire at will! Don’t save your arrows now! And don’t waste any on the runehelms!”

The thrumming of bowstrings echoed through the damp night air, and once again arrows raked the Council Guard and their merchant sellsword allies. The range was close, and the enemy soldiers made excellent targets as they floundered and slipped up the hillside. Scores screamed and fell under the deadly barrage … but Shieldsworn fell as well, picked off the hilltop by the arbalesters in the Council Guard ranks. With a great, angry roar, Marstel’s soldiers reached the foot of the bluff in a ragged line.

Runehelms and Council Guards began climbing all around the perimeter of the hill. Shieldsworn met them at the edge of the bluff, hacking down the Council Guards as they struggled to find their footing and shoving runehelms off the slope with timbers and wagon axles. To Kara’s right, several more Shieldsworn managed to lever a large boulder over the edge. It missed the runehelm they’d been aiming for, but it bounded down through the ranks of Marstel’s soldiery. The waiting Shieldsworn raised a harsh shout of triumph as gaps opened up in the attacking ranks. Then all at once, scores of Marstel’s soldiers swarmed up and over the edge-there were simply too many for the Shieldsworn to stop them all. The runehelms who’d avoided being pushed off strode into the Shieldsworn ranks, their great halberds reaping a grisly harvest. Screams of pain and roars of anger rose above the ringing of steel on steel and the brutal sounds of halberd blades cleaving mail and flesh.

Drawing her saber, Kara joined the fray to lend a hand with the fearsome creatures. Shieldsworn hacked at the monsters’ limbs and ducked away from the whistling halberd blades, but the runehelms were terrifying in their power and resilience. Warriors exposing themselves even for an instant to cut at a knee or wrist were hacked down in blinding ripostes or sent flying through the air, broken and bleeding. Thanking the gods of war that they’d managed to delay at least a few of the monsters, Kara lunged close to the nearest and landed one shallow cut to the shoulder before backing away from a halberd blow that could have sheared off a leg. The instant the blade passed, Kara darted back in to strike at the same shoulder, deepening her cut. The silent black visor fixed on her, and the runehelm replied with a straight thrust of the halberd’s spear point. She deflected the point past her torso with a hasty parry, but the blow was so powerful that the flat top of the axe head drove her saber back against her and hammered her off her feet. The ranger gasped for air, her breath knocked out of her.

The runehelm that had knocked her down pivoted smoothly and raised its halberd for an overhand blow that she could never hope to avoid. Kara saw her death ahead of her, and raised an arm to fend it off … but as the gray monster’s halberd started down on its final arc, it suddenly shuddered violently. The magical glyphs inscribed in its flesh all flashed with purple fire, and a wisp of smoke escaped from its iron visor. The thing uttered a high-pitched, metallic scream-the first sound Kara had ever heard one of the runehelms make-and sank to its knees, its halberd falling beside it. As she watched in amazement, the glyphs marking it blurred and faded, vanishing like ink washed away in water.

“Geran’s done it,” she said aloud. “Geran’s done it! He’s destroyed the runehelms’ master stone!”

The runehelm that had almost killed her started to fumble its way to its feet, but a brawny Shieldsworn stepped up beside it and buried his battle-axe in the back of its neck. The monster collapsed to the ground and didn’t move again. Kara picked herself up and looked around; all along the hilltop, her soldiers were hacking the crippled runehelms to pieces and throwing back the Council Guard’s assault.

“Are you hurt, Lady Kara?” Vossen asked urgently.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Kara answered. That wasn’t entirely true; she suspected she’d have quite a bruise to show later. Around her, Wester’s shield was quickly clearing the bluff of the enemies who’d managed to reach the top.

“There’s something wrong with the gray guardians,” the banner-sergeant said. He pointed. “Look, they can hardly stand.”

Kara followed Merrith’s arm. She could make out dozens of the runehelms no longer fighting their way up the hillside. Some leaned on their halberds, some kneeled on the damp moorgrass, and others were simply motionless on the ground. Without the hulking monsters to lead the way, the Council Guards were already falling back in disorder. Marstel’s banner wavered on the lower hillside, and a disorganized knot of Council Guards and merchant company mercenaries dashed back and forth in panic as they realized that their mighty allies were unresponsive. The banner’s not that far, Kara decided. And she still had a couple of companies that were more or less intact …

“Sergeant Kolton, my horse!” she shouted. “Captain Wester! Form your shield on me! Vossen, signal the Icehammers and Third Shield to follow our charge! We’re going after the standard!”

Nils Wester nodded at once. “With pleasure, Lady Kara! Come on, lads-there sits that fat old arse Marstel himself! Let’s go give him our opinion of his reign!” The First Shield quickly settled into ranks on either side of Kara, the soldiers clashing blades to their shields and shouting insults at the Council Guard forces.

Sergeant Kolton’s men brought their mounts forward from where they’d been picketed, and Kara swung herself up into Dancer’s saddle. The big mare snorted eagerly, sensing Kara’s mood, and the rest of Kolton’s guards horsed themselves as well.

Kara waited a few moments to let Wester’s soldiers find their places, then waved her sword over her head. “Charge!” she cried, and spurred Dancer out ahead of her soldiers. In a lurching, skittering slide, she rode down the rocky incline, her guards following after her.

Wester’s Shieldsworn roared in battle fury and ran after her, slipping and sliding down the wet stone as they dropped over the bluff’s edge to the corpse-strewn ground below. Kara aimed straight for Marstel, steering nimbly around the clumsy runehelms and knots of Council Guards who turned to stand in her path; she trusted Wester’s soldiers to deal with them soon enough. The surging Shieldsworn crashed through the disorganized sellswords and the constructs both, sweeping the line of battle fifty yards downslope in a great, confused mass of shouting warriors and silent runehelms. Even as Wester’s men left their places, the Third Shield and the Icehammers appeared at the bluff and streamed over to follow. With Marstel’s captains spread out to ring the hillside, Kara’s charge brought almost all of her strength against only a portion of her enemy’s.