had suffered from many terrible nightmares in his past, but this was much worse, and thehorrorof itovercame him with its stench and voracity. He felt some bitter juices rise in his mouth and was forced to turn his gaze straight down to his feet.
A mighty grip seized his shoulder. ‘Have strength, young Lord Samuel,’ Adell said, and it seemed the captain had not given up entirely. ‘These are early days yet. We are Turians and we will not give up until the day is won.’
Booms and crackles of magic sounded from behind and the party turned towards the town.
‘Their magicians have come into play,’ Goodfellow noted. The fields before the town were clotted with men and thissecond battle raged on to the south.
Eric Pot, beside him, shook his fist with frustration. ‘And what about us? Why are we standing here idly? We should be doing something!’
‘Patience, Master Pot,’ Gallivan told him. ‘We need to tread carefully while the day is young. Many have died, but this is just the beginning. The Lions have not yet begun to roar and,when they do, the men will be sorted from the boys and all shall shudder in their breeches. Despite our situation, timing is still crucial.’
‘They are ignoring the town,’ Captain Adell noted, pointing back towards the south, where tides of men were pouringfromaround the buildings to join the battle.
Anthem nodded solemnly. ‘Yes. Their priority is to wedge us in. They know they can plunder the town later,at their leisure, should they be victorious.’
‘What’s that?’ Goodfellow alerted, pointing, for the plumes of smoke rising from amongst the distant buildings had grown thick and billowed towards the magicians like an unfolding shroud.
‘They seek to obscure the battlefield,’ Gallivan noted, ‘but it will be to their disadvantage as well as ours… unless they plan to surprise us with something. We should keep ready.’
‘A useful tactic against magicians,’ Anthem muttered.
‘Is there a spell behind it?’ Goodfellow asked the old Grand Master. ‘It’s curious how it courses straight towards us.’
Anthem only shook his head. ‘No. I can’t sense any magic,’ to which Samuel agreed, for he would have seen any magic at this distance as clearly as if fireworks had been released. ‘I suspect it is a concocted formula, designed to make such an obscuration. It is unfortunate that the wind is precisely against us.’
The thick cloud rolled over the buildings and fell across the battlefield to the south. The men continued fighting, but everything vanished from view as soon as the cloud reached it, devouring them all into its billowing depths. The battle raged on in all directions, while the magicians stood tight and observed with all possible calm.
‘I feel the time is right, Janus,’ Gallivan told the other Grand Master after a short spell.
The wiry,old man nodded and his wispy eyebrows bobbed in time. ‘Indeed. I am not sure what the Gartens plan, but I agree. Let us strike now before they can close this noose any further, or unloose any further surprises.’
Gallivan raised his fingers to his lips and made a shrill whistle. At that very instant, cataclysmic spells erupted from the other Grand Masters, each waiting on the wings. From their points along the hilltop, explosive magic shot out and decimated the Garten horde in bulk, leaving Samuel and the Erics shielding their eyes from the rain of debris that pelted down all around. Dust filled the air, setting them to choke,and it only served to further obscure the air.
Their spells continued unabated, and the three magicians remained huddled next to Anthem and Gallivan, overwhelmed by the bedlam all around.
‘Stay close to me,’ Anthem reminded them, raising his voice above the din.
The cloud to the south had now almost reached them and many of Canard’s men were fleeing before it in a panic. Behind them, the second army marched inwards, working to bottle them in. No one could see them coming, but Samuel could sense their presence easily through the shroud.
Just then, a shudder in the pattern had all the magicians looking to the east along the hilltop, where the weaves of Grand Master Orien abruptly ceased.
‘Gods!’ Anthem swore.
Gallivan, beside him, looked beyond belief.
‘What is it?’ Goodfellow asked.
‘Grand Master Orien is dead,’ Samuel replied.
‘How?’ Eric asked, keeping his head down, but Samuel only shook his head in response. He did not know.
‘I will go,’ Gallivan said and almost simultaneously he bound up in to the air, propelled by his Leaping spell in the manner of a huge flea. As he sailed through the air to where Orien had fallen, a dark sliver spiralled up from the ground to meet him. It found him in the air and snapped tight, like a length of rope, and all Samuel could see through the dust and haze was Gallivan falling to earth like a rock, trailing tatters of ruined magic.
‘Assassins!’ Anthem hissed. ‘The Lions be warned!’
‘What is it, Grand Master?’ Samuel asked, but the old man looked ill with dread.
At that moment, the battle fell upon them as the Gartens breached their defences and spilled up over the hill. Samuel was bowled to the ground with the Erics atop him. A defiant roar from Anthem cleared the area of Gartens, but it took time for the three younger magicians to regain their feet. When they did, there was no sign of Captain Adell at all.
The line on the hill had completely broken and men were now fighting all over in disorganised clumps. There was no sign of General Canard to the south, but it was clear his forces had retreated, so now the Turians were fighting back to back, with Gartens on either side of them.
Grand Masters Jurien and Tudor then came hobbling out of the fray towards them. Jurien’s robes were torn and singed and he looked full of alarm.
‘We must make a channel,’ he gasped, bent over with age and lacking his stick to aid him. ‘We need to save as many of these men as we can.’
A Turian soldier had found the old man’s staff and came hurrying with it to his side. The withered old magician had just started to reach for his trusty aid, when the soldier thrust his hand up into Jurien’s neck, stabbing him ferociously with a hidden blade.
Samuel nearly leapt out of his skin in fright, but Anthem acted instantly, killing the assassin before he could flee.
‘A spy,’ Tudor said, sounding every bit as old as he looked. He shook his head forlornly at the corpse of old Jurien. Bending down, he plucked up the abandoned walking staff and rolled it over in his leathered hands. ‘Curse this day-and it is just beginning.’
Gallivan came looming out of the haze from the opposite direction. He also looked haggard, but at least he had somehow escaped the trap meant for him. ‘We are the last three,’ he declared with woe. ‘The other Lions are dead-already overcome.’
Anthem nodded solemnly. ‘This battle is lost,’ he told them. ‘We are pinned between two much greater armies and it is evident they came prepared to kill us Lions in particular. It seems we have been proven the fools. We have underestimated the Gartens greatly. Levin, you must get these three to safety,’ and Grand Master Tudor nodded. ‘I will stay and wreak death and ruination upon these men, and give them reason to regret they found us. They may have won the battle, but few of them will live to tell of it.’
Gallivan stepped up to the old Grand Master proudly. ‘And I will join you, Janus.’
‘Let us stay,’ Samuel implored them. ‘We can stand together.’
But Anthem only scolded him. ‘Don’t be a young fool, Samuel. We’re not staying just to throw our lives away. We can do far more here without you three to worry about, and of most importance is keeping you out of harm’s way. We Lions are old and have far outlasted our golden years. You three are the future of the Order, but you will not live to see your potential if you do not live out this day.’
Gallivan then spoke up and he was even more dramatic. Even at such a dangerous moment, it seemed the regal Lions could not abandon their grandiloquent habits. ‘The Lions have had their moment in the sun, and today will forever mark a place in history! Whether we win or lose, our foe will remember this hour, and it will strike fear into their hearts forever more!’
Shouts of panic drew their attention, just in time, to some great shape leaping upon them. A reptilian face
