With many of their horses down and caught in the press of a retreating army, there was little they could do. They fought back as best they could, but the swords and axes of knights were of little use against the thick hides of the tuskers.
Laruhk struck out with his spear, taking a knight in the chest. With the added force of his tusker behind his thrust, the tip easily penetrated the plate armour, but as he rode past, he was forced to release his grip or be pulled from the beast's back.
His eyes darted around, spotting the other riders. The tuskers ran as a herd, plowing through the knights as if they were little more than blades of grass. Those who weren't trampled to death were torn asunder by the massive teeth of the creatures.
Laruhk watched as one of his riders went down, his mount punctured by a well-placed lance. A knight rushed forward ready to finish off his foe, but an arrow from Durgash took him in the neck, and he fell to the ground, unmoving.
Shaluhk spotted her chance. In the wake of the tusker charge, the Temple Knights were staggering around, disoriented by the fury of the impact. Closing her eyes, she called upon all the power she could summon. It was a difficult spell, one she had never before attempted, but she knew, in her heart, now was the time to act. The magic surged through her as she intoned the words, struggling to maintain her balance under the onslaught of mystical forces. As she released the spell, small white particles shot from her hands to land just a stone's throw in front of her, quickly sinking into the ground.
Moments later, the particles expanded, growing into columns of mist before they slowly coalesced, forming into images of Orcs. These were no hunters, but Orc warriors, armed in ancient armour, the likes of which the world had not seen for centuries. When they looked at her with lifeless eyes, she pointed at the great battle before her.
As one, they turned, letting loose with a keening sound that shook her to her very bones, and then they were rushing forward with spears and swords, tearing across the ground in a mad dash to engage the enemy.
The warhorses of the knights, caught between the vicious tuskers and the otherworldly images of the spirit warriors, panicked. The fear spread like a wildfire, and it was all the knights could do to save themselves from being trampled to death by their own horses. Many of the Temple Knights abandoned their mounts, eager to take up arms against their foe, while others were carried from the field as their horses bolted off in terror.
Kargen blocked a sword, then struck out in retaliation, his axe biting deeply into the knight's forearm, cutting through the metal and down into the bone. The man screamed out in pain, but the Orc just pushed him out of the way with his shield. Kargen took another step, calling out a challenge, but the enemy was retreating. The great chief could not understand why, and then a chill fell over him as wispy shapes surged past. He had a brief glimpse of the ghostly figure of an Orc warrior dressed in some type of scale armour, and then more appeared. All he could do was watch in fascination as these ancient warriors smashed into the enemy, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.
Kargen looked around, orienting himself, only to spot Shaluhk amongst the wounded, barely able to stand. He rushed to her, catching her just as she fell.
"Shaluhk!" he called out. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she replied, "but I have exhausted my strength. It took all I had to cast that spell."
He looked into the distance where the melee still raged. "What did you do?"
"I summoned ancient warriors to do my bidding."
"Wherever did you learn such a thing?"
"I did not," Shaluhk replied, "but Khurlig used her powers to possess me back in Ord-Kurgad. It seems when Uhdrig drove her from my body, some of her memories remained."
"You must rest."
"I can not, for to do so would release the conjured warriors from the physical world."
"Release them, how?" asked Kargen.
"They would return to the realm of spirits. I must remain awake long enough to keep them here, but I am exhausted."
"Then let me share your burden."
"That is very sweet of you," said Shaluhk, "but how would you do such a thing? You are no shaman."
"No," he agreed, "but while I still have strength, I will not see you struggle. I shall carry you."
Kargen lifted her, his arms beneath her knees and back. He took a couple of steps, then adjusted his hold slightly. "There," he said. "Now we are together once again."
"As we should be."
Natalia watched Laruhk's forces as they tore through the enemy formation. From her vantage point, it was a remarkable sight as if a shark had just swum through a school of fish. Riderless horses began rushing northward, eager to escape the ferocious tusks of the great beasts.
She looked to the east where the warbows of the Red Hand were keeping up a steady stream of arrows, picking off those who survived the initial onslaught. Even from this distance, she could make out Shaluhk. The Orc was invoking her magic, and Natalia briefly wondered what spell she might be utilizing, for the shamaness was a healer, not a warrior. To the Water Mage's surprise, ghostly warriors materialized out of thin air.
She looked at Voruhn to see her staring off in the same direction. "What spell is that?" Natalia asked.
"Warriors of the past," replied the shamaness, "though she must be powerful indeed to call on such
