The Dark Lord

rest of you... gather up all the men you can find... shore up that wall; one of those scorpions is unharmed, get it working!'

Aurelian felt surety seize him, his confusion vanishing in a hard, bright instant of decision. His voice cleared, the hoarseness fading, ringing out. Everywhere within sight soldiers stiffened, looking towards him. The fear and confusion in their faces disappeared.

'Archers to the wall!' he boomed. 'Don't let the Persians reach us in good order! Get the wounded back and hale men forward!'

—|—

Khalid gasped for breath, feet slipping in the loose, muddy earth. Persian diquans climbed past, the sun—slanting through clouds of dust and smoke—blazing from their swords and maces. The Arab took hold of a charred Roman stake and levered himself up another yard. A crowd of Sahaban fighters and pushtigbahn clambered past, silent and grim. A lone arrow snapped overhead. Behind Khalid, horns wailed in the heavy air. A glance over his shoulder revealed golden banners pouring through the break in the outer wall. Thousands of fresh Persian troops were coming up.

'Shields!' A cry echoed down from the top of the fortification. Metal and wood clashed, and a sudden wall of legionary shields appeared, horsetail helmet plumes dancing above the square-edged scuta. Khalid gathered himself, then sprinted up the slope, ash puffing up as he ran. The pushtigbahn and the Sahaba rushed forward as well, cloaks slapping against armor, breath loud and hoarse in the suddenly still air. The Romans tensed as well, the edges of their shields clanking one against the other.

'Throw!' a deep, bull-voice shouted and the Persians and Arabs threw themselves down, pressing against the earth, crouching behind their shields. Javelins flickered in the sky, falling among the attackers with a ringing clang. Immediately, the Arab soldiers rose and rushed forward again. Down on the floor of the canal, hundreds of their fellows raised a wild shout.

'Allau ak-bar!' the Sahaba screamed, charging up the last yards into the Roman lines.

Khalid scuttled sideways, ducking instinctively as a flight of arrows flashed up from the canal. The Arab archers were shooting blind, lofting their shafts high above the rampart, letting the arrows fall into the space behind the line of battle. Khalid ignored them and the men struggling along the crest of the wall—everything but the shattered earth in front of him. He slipped over the lip of the crater, wincing at the heat radiating out of the burned, glassy earth.

Two bodies lay within the blackened circle. The jackal-headed man was curled up in the base of the hollow, while Odenathus—his face streaked with blood and soot—was crumpled only a few feet away. Suppressing a cry of despair, Khalid crawled down to his friend. His outstretched hand touched cold, clammy flesh and the young Arab felt his heart race. Odenathus' head rolled back, mouth slack, eyes sightless. Khalid crouched in the crater, ear pressed to his friend's chest. A faint flutter of breath rewarded him.

'You're alive, at least...' Khalid whispered to the unconscious Palmyrene. Still keeping his head low, the Arab slid down into the hollow, boots cracking through a brittle, glassy crust. Fresh steam rushed out, scalding his leg. Gasping with pain, Khalid rolled away from the sizzling vent. Biting his lip to keep from crying out, the Arab wrapped his cloak around both hands, then crawled up the far side of the crater. Zoe's leg lay within the ashy circle, but her body was exposed on the slope.

A sudden burst of shouts and the clatter of iron made Khalid turn. A javelin whipped past, thudding into the dirt beside Zoe's foot. The Arab yelped in surprise, then scrambled up out of the crater and threw himself onto the girl. Another javelin whipped past. Some Arab archers in the canal yelled, pointing. Khalid gave Zoe's body a heavy push with his boot—the girl slid down the slope, arms flopping. The archers began climbing up, eager to reach her. One of them rose up too far—another Roman javelin plunged down out of the sky and crunched into his chest. Surprised, the man toppled back, bow flying from his hand.

A deep roar echoed from the top of the rampart. Khalid spared a glance and saw a huge mob of pushtigbahn clatter up the slope and into the melee. The Romans staggered back, the diquans wading in among them, heavy maces flashing, longswords glittering crimson. Then a brawny, red-bearded legionary stormed into their midst, smashing his shield into the face of a Persian knight, knocking the man back down the slope. The diquan smashed into two of his fellows—still toiling up the incline—and all three fell in a huge bang of metal. Khalid wrenched his attention away, scuttling around the rim of the smoking crater. Odenathus' body felt light—he was wearing only a padded mail shirt under his tunic—and Khalid grunted, taking the man's weight across his shoulders.

Staggering, his boots cracking through shattered glass, Khalid weaved back to the edge of the canal. Zoe's body had slid down to the archers. Eager hands seized her armor and cloak, dragging her into a cluster of Sahaba.

'Run!' Khalid shouted, gesturing wildly. 'Take her across!'

The archers looked up, surprised. Khalid bent, spilling Odenathus down the gravelly slope. The Palmyrene slid, picking up speed, rolling over and over. Two of the archers threw themselves under him, catching the wizard. Khalid swung over the lip of the crater, shoulder blades itching in warning. A sharp rattling sound split the air. Khalid ducked, pressing himself into the hot earth. A scream echoed back. One of the archers had taken a sling stone in the face. Blood spurted, the man clawing at a ruined eye.

The Arab pushed himself down the slope, dirt spilling away under him.

'The jackal!' a hoarse, sharp voice shouted. Khalid looked up as his feet hit the bottom of the rampart, sinking into thick mud. Zoe was struggling weakly among the men carrying her. Her white face was very plain against the dark earth, the soot-stained faces of the archers, the sky filled with smoke and dust. 'Get the jackal!' A mail-clad finger stabbed back at the crater.

Khalid cursed vilely. Arrows fluttered out of the sky, falling like rain. One of the Sahaba, only yards away, rose up, loosed his own shaft at the Romans high above, then ducked down again. The Eagle pulled one boot free from the mire. He wiped his mouth, smearing blood across his cheek. Zoe was still struggling, though the men holding her were far stronger. 'Get the jackal!' she wailed.

'Are you mad?' Khalid pressed himself close to the rampart, trying to hide from the missiles plunging down from above. He stared back at the girl, still struggling, then fearfully at the melee on the slope above. Can't leave wizards just lying about! He might even be alive...

The young Arab clawed at the earth, pulling himself back up the wall. Cautiously, he peered over the edge. The Persian attack had broken. The Immortals lay dead in drifts along the rampart, while the Sahaba were falling back in disarray. A huge crowd of legionaries formed up on the crest of the wall, faces exhausted, but obviously game for a second go. Khalid scrambled across the crater, pulse hammering in his ears. He grabbed the jackal's bare foot, fingers slipping from a layer of sweat. Khalid tugged violently, dragging the man towards him.

Someone shouted sharply in Latin. Khalid grabbed the ankle with both hands, digging his feet in and hauled for all he was worth. The jackal slid across the crater floor towards him, shoulders crunching through glass. A sling stone slapped into the mud, splashing Khalid's face. Biceps burning, he gave another huge heave. The jackal slipped free of the mire and fell into his arms.

An arrow leapt down out of the sky, slamming into the jackal's chest. Khalid grunted, stunned by the blow. The iron arrowhead pierced the body and grated against the iron links of his mail shirt. Sick with fear, Khalid rolled backwards, slipping over the lip of the crater. A roar of Roman laughter followed him, then jeering cries.

Unable to catch himself, Khalid fell heavily into the canal, then the jackal crashed down on top of him. The iron mask cracked sharply against his forehead and the young Arab cried out. Everything was spinning, the earth shaking, a growing roar rushing towards him. Dazed, Khalid struggled under the body, heavy black mud sliding up around his arms and legs, oozing into his armor.

—|—

'Release me!' Zoe punched one of the archers in the face, feeling his nose break under the iron rings of her glove. The man gasped, falling back, and she shrugged free of the others. She felt terribly weak—her sight in the hidden world came and went in disorienting flashes—but the crumpled shape of the jackal filled her vision. 'We have to get him back,' she hissed at the archers.

Without waiting for their response, she staggered forward, mud sucking at her boots. The Sahaba fell back from her in confusion as someone began shouting in alarm. Zoe ignored the noise, slogging through deeper mud