"I've never heard of it."
"Nor should you have," said the Orc. "It is an ancient spell, calling forth our Ancestors from the times of the great cities."
"I thought Orcs were hunters, not warriors."
"And so we are, these days, but in ancient times, we prided ourselves on our martial prowess. It remained so for many generations until the Elves put an end to such things."
"How long will they remain amongst the living?" asked Natalia.
"Only as long as Shaluhk can maintain her concentration. It takes great effort."
They watched in silence as the spirits raced into battle, sweeping aside their foes. Natalia saw an ancient warrior destroyed, its physical form dissipating like so much dust.
"I don't understand," she said. "How can a spirit die?"
"The magic gives them a physical form. If that form is disrupted, then the spirit is freed. They are not ghosts, at least not in the traditional sense, but rather a physical manifestation of their original life. How else would they be able to fight?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way. Is this a common tactic amongst your people?"
Voruhn turned to look at her. "They are your people too, Nat-Alia, for you are a member of the Red Hand, are you not?"
"I am, and proud to be so, but you still haven't answered my question."
Voruhn smiled. "I have never heard of such a spell being used before."
"And yet you know of it."
"I do, but I suspect that has more to do with my possession at the hands of Khurlig. It looks like we may have unlocked ancient knowledge as a result of her interference. Perhaps it is the will of the Ancestors."
"The Ancestors advise," cautioned Natalia. "They do not control."
"You are right, but you can not deny it is to our advantage."
"Do you think that's why you can speak our tongue?"
"I had not thought of that," answered Voruhn. "It is a gift that keeps on giving."
They turned their attention to the north once more, where the rest of the duke's warriors were now surrendering, throwing down their weapons, and begging for mercy. When Natalia finally spotted Athgar, her heart skipped a beat, for he was up and walking amongst the wounded alongside a familiar-looking face, that of Sir Raynald.
She made her way down the hill, picking her way through the field of battle, Voruhn following. Athgar smiled at her approach, his white teeth in stark contrast to his bloody countenance.
"Are you hurt?" she called out.
"Only sore," he replied. "It has been a busy morning."
She moved closer, embracing him. He returned the gesture, crushing her against him. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, then kissed, lingering on the act until Sir Raynald coughed.
"Might I suggest," said the knight, "you ask the Temple Knights to surrender?"
"You think they might?" asked Athgar.
"They are honourable men. I know that's hard to believe under the circumstances, but I think they truly believed they were here to fight a death cult, as did I."
"That being so," said Natalia, "would they even be willing to listen to us?"
"Let me speak on your behalf," offered Sir Raynald. "I'm sure I can convince them of the error of their ways."
"It's worth a try," said Athgar, "but Natalia's the one in charge. It's her decision."
"Very well," said Natalia, "but how do we pull back our forces? We can't very well ask for their surrender with our army tearing through them."
"Leave that to me," said Voruhn.
Athgar looked at the Orc in wonder. "You speak our language?"
Natalia smiled. "She does."
"This day is just full of surprises," he said.
Voruhn lifted a horn to her lips, blowing three clear notes. The call was taken up by others, and soon the Orcs began to withdraw from the melee. The Temple Knights, now bereft of the majority of their horses, moved closer together, forming into a hollow circle, their few remaining mounts in the centre.
Now that the fighting had ceased, only the cries of the wounded echoed across the bloody field. Sir Raynald stepped through the carnage, Athgar at his side while Natalia watched from a distance, her position as commander too important to be risked in such a role.
The knight halted, pulling off his helmet. "I would speak to whoever commands," he called out.
"I am in charge here," called back Father General Hargild. "What do you want?"
"I call on you to give up this fight. You have been misled, Your Grace, as we all have. There are no worshippers of death here. These are ordinary folk."
"You lie!" insisted the father general. "Our grand master has ordained that ours is a just and holy cause. We will not submit to you. You have been tainted by their magic!"
"Please, you must believe me. There is no worship of death here. Do not let your knights die in vain."
"My men will die serving their Saint. Temple Knights do not surrender nor do they treat with the enemy. Now begone, and let us settle the matter once and for all."
Sir Raynald turned to Athgar. "I'm sorry," he said. "It appears they are determined to fight to the bitter end."
"Do you believe he'll change his mind if we give him some time to think on it?"
"No, they're strong in their beliefs. I doubt they would waver in their resolve."
"Let's see what Natalia thinks," said Athgar. He turned, leading them back through the debris of the battlefield to where the others waited.
"Their answer?" asked Natalia.
"They refuse to surrender," said Athgar.
"I was afraid of that. I've ordered the Orcs to encircle what's left of them. They won't get very far if they try to flee."
"They won't run," insisted Sir Raynald. "They're Temple Knights. They can be stubborn that way."
"And so instead they'll stand and die?" said Natalia.
"It's part of their training. Temple Knights don't retreat."
"That's not true," said Athgar. "We learned that at Ord-Kurgad."
"Yes," added Natalia, "but that was only after the Sisters of Saint Agnes arrived to place their leader under arrest."
"You defeated Temple Knights?" said Sir Raynald. "I've never heard of such a thing."
"Hardly
