Something was not right. It was nothing that the rhino-apes could have articulated. Their level of intelligence did not allow for in-depth analysis of their situation. All they knew was that they had somehow lost their advantage over the humans . . . that this battle was not going in their favor. Savage instinct drove them to fight and kill despite the misgivings clawing at their collective sense.
The rhino-apes’ clubs blurred up and down in a mad frenzy of death dealing. Humans collapsed beneath those stupendous blows but more retaliated with equal vigor. The bite of human bladed weapons was gaining in ever increasing frequency. The rhino-apes were squeezed in from all directions, making it difficult for them to raise their clubs. A rabid pincer of spears and swords closed in on the rhino-apes like the shutting jaws of a giant hungry beast.
The few demon-men not shot down by cavalry arrows attempted to dash to the defense of their underworld allies. They were mauled by vengeful Zanjiians and pushed back into the packed mass of the center where they were either flattened by the panicked crush of their oversized comrades or perforated by human blades. The jaws of that beast closed tighter, inexorably, emboldened by human hatred, fueled by human vengeance.
The demon-sorcerer would not have believed it possible if he had not seen it with his own eyes.
From the summit of his tower, Ajunge’s enchanted view of the plain below enabled him to witness how the humans were winning this battle. The Zanjiians, with able assistance from foreign mercenaries, along with new and effective weapons, had demonstrated a discipline and competence not shown in previous battles. Plus, they employed an encirclement maneuver to such superb effect that they managed to surround his soldiers completely.
Ajunge recoiled in distress at the sight of his valued warriors being cut down like weeds in a farm plot. The demon-sorcerer flailed his arms, screaming his rage at the very top of his lungs. He decided immediately that the Zanjiian queen was going to pay a final price for her defiance. He was finished with this game. Now it was time to seize what was his.
Ajunge materialized outside the queen’s palace in a ream of light. Twelve demon men accompanied him. Imperial Guardsmen reacted to the intruders’ sudden appearance instantaneously, but they were still too late to avoid the conflagration that blasted vengefully from the demon-sorcerer’s hand. Amid the flaming clumps of human remains, the demon-men fanned out to chop down the survivors. For the surviving guardsmen who were burned over most of their bodies, the razor edge of a demon-man’s arm was a merciful release from the pain of their injuries.
Zara was standing next to her throne surrounded by grimly determined guardsmen when the demon-sorcerer and his demon-men stormed into the throne hall.
“It’s over, Demon,” Zara announced coldly. “You will leave my land or suffer the consequences.”
An amused snarl lifted a corner of Ajunge’s wrinkled mouth. “Victory is not yours, wench! You may have won a battle, but not the war.”
A voice came from behind the demon-sorcerer. “You heard the queen. She said it’s over.”
Ajunge turned slowly to see a tall man in a loose, white sleeveless tunic standing behind him. His garb and facial scars marked him as one of the queen’s foreigners. The stranger held a straight sword in one hand a long dagger in the other. A group of bare-chested warriors carrying large shields and wide-bladed spears filed into the throne room with perfect military precision. The steely, challenging looks on their hard faces betrayed no fear. The warriors formed a semi-circle around Ajunge and his demon-men.
The demon-sorcerer regarded the stranger as if the latter were a bug fit only to be crushed beneath his heel. “I won’t waste time with you, vermin. But I promise, the queen’s death will not be so abrupt.” Lifting his hand toward Toulou, a jet of flame shot out.
Zara screamed in horror when she saw Toulou enveloped in a blue-white ball of fire. But when the flames subsided to nothingness, she was shocked to see that the mercenary leader was still standing, still alive. The demon-sorcerer’s fire had not burned the man, had not so much as singed him.
Zara’s guardsmen shouted their alarm, then whooped in elation at this miracle of the stranger’s survival. The empee held steady, their bodies tensed to spring into action.
Ajunge drew back in utter astonishment. Impossible. The man still lived. He thrust his hand out a second time releasing another current of fire that once again washed harmlessly over his intended victim.
“You might as well surrender,” Toulou suggested implacably. “Your hold over this land is no more.”
Ajunge stared hard at the foreigner. Then he threw back his long robe and unsheathed a double pronged sword from a jeweled scabbard. “Whatever magic is shielding you from my enchanted fire, it will not protect you from the bite of my steel.”
The demon-sorcerer advanced, his red eyed gaze beaming a sweltering spotlight of malignancy on the stranger.
Toulou raised his sword and dagger, bending his knees slightly in a fight stance.
Before their blades collided, Ajunge shouted a command to his demon-men. “Kill the queen!”
Two battles were fought within the gilded splendor of the throne hall. The larger battle involved the demon-men’s attempted assault on Queen Zara. The guardsman, inspired by the foreigner’s repelling of the demon-sorcerer’s foul magic, met the demon-men’s attack with a ferocity that obliterated their previous fear. The first rank of guardsmen sprinted forward, plunging spears and swords into their foes before the latter could position their arms to block the
