Daggrande's and Garrant's companies.
'Time for you to go, my dear,' Cordell said quietly. He and Darien stood at the front of the observation tower, watching the approach of the eagles for a moment, seeing them settle toward the earth behind the two companies. The rest of the legion's infantry advanced steadily on each flank, but Daggrande's and Garrant's companies were still far ahead.
The elf woman was completely swathed in her hood and robe to protect her albino skin from the hot sun. Nevertheless, she heard Cordell and nodded.
In the next second, she disappeared from sight, vanishing with a sorcerous suddenness that unnerved the signal officers with Cordell on his battle tower.
Her teleportation spell took her instantly to the ground below the descending eagles. She swiftly looked skyward, squinting against the bright haze that nearly blinded her. Holding up a finger, she pointed at the lowest eagle and barked a harsh command.
A sizzling missile of light bolted from her finger to explode in the breast of the bird. It screeched and tried to arrest its descent, but another blast, and another, sizzled into its bare flesh. With a pathetic flutter, the bird's wings collapsed and it crashed to earth, a shapeless pile of feathers.
Darien turned her attention immediately to another bird, shearing off its wing with several more magic missiles. At the same time, she sensed more of the birds circling behind her.
Wheeling like a swordsman, Darien snatched Icetongue from its sling at her belt. Raising the wand, she uttered the command word, once, twice, and again, moving the wand slightly each time.
At each command, the wand winked its soft, silent attack. A wash of bright, cool light surged outward in a cone from the end of the wand. The frosty blast enshrouded the eagles and killed them with cold, shocking the knights with its supernatural, deadly power.
A half dozen birds fell from the first blast, frozen stiff in the air, with their wings spread and beaks gaping, and then smashed to pieces when they crashed to earth. More died with the second blast. The rest of the eagles shrilled in rage and closed in. More and more of them fell to Icetongue, but now they soared into an enclosing circle, talons extended. They would destroy this alien sorcerer with their god-given bodies, then become humans to strike the enemy soldiers from behind.
Darien abruptly dropped Icetongue, letting the wand swing freely from its thong. She stood straight and still as the ring of eagles soared inward, shrieking.
Then she raised her hands to the sky, and as her hands came up, an orange ring of fire erupted from the ground around her, sheltering Darien inside a circle of deadly heat.
Many of the eagles were too close to avoid the fiery wall. Eager fingers of fire tore feathers from their wings, ripped down from their proud feathered breasts. The eagles fell by the score, scarred and singed and blistered. Many of these were not killed by their wounds, but Darien ignored them, knowing they would be no further threat.
The surviving eagles, less than half the original force, settled somberly to the ground, well away from Darien. She watched them as they blurred and expanded into their human forms, quickly moving to surround her.
Darien took the opportunity to cast a fireball spell, incinerating several more of the warriors. Then, knowing that she had done her job, she teleported back to Cordell's side, leaving the Eagle Knights to close their empty ring.
'Every man must attack! We can hold nothing back!' Gultec was the first to recover his voice after the chiefs had seen the devastation of their proud eagles. Now he leaped from the rooftop to the yard below, brandishing his maca above his head and howling the deep and resonant challenge of the Jaguar Knight.
The other chieftains instantly followed. Standards hastily passed from the rooftops to eager hands. All across the field, the great army of Payit surged forward, following their feathered banners to war.
Gultec raced forward toward the enemy. A red haze fell across his eyes as he pictured the slaughtering done, the slaughtering still to do. His war cries came as inarticulate howls, but they touched a deep and warlike nerve among the warriors. Fresh thousands surged toward the forward companies of the invaders. Many more Payits advanced to engage the white warriors on each flank,
Gultec surged into battle with a sense of euphoric joy. The moment of decision had come, and it was his decision. All around him, the noise and color of his countrymen gave him strength and delight.
The Payits surged around the forward companies now, surrounding them. Gultec felt a warm rush of admiration for the fighting of these soldiers, their tight formations, their weapons of unbelievable might. He would go to them now as a warrior.
His destiny propelled him, told him that this fight would be the climax of his life.
Halloran reached the shelter of the mangaroo swamp just as dawn's light filtered through the overhanging verdure. Still resting on the inflated bladder, he drifted easily along the winding stretches of water, searching.
Soon he found that which he sought: a lone canoe. The vessel floated motionless and empty, tied to a rickety wooden landing, with no one in sight. Hal slipped over the gunwale of the craft and unlashed the twine rope before paddling quickly away.
He saw enough of the sunlight to gauge his directions, working his way to the western fringe of the delta. There his ears confirmed his sense of direction.
The chaos of battle noise in the distance was an unnatural din, beautiful and frightening at the same time. Familiar sounds like the blare of trumpets mingled with the shrill noises of the natives.
The mangaroo passage grew too narrow for the canoe and Halloran climbed out, worming his way toward the battle. Soon the entwining trees parted to reveal the grassy plain. Halloran stayed well back among the trees, for he saw several natives before him, apparently gathered to watch the battle.
He found an unusually stout mangaroo. It was not tall, but he was able to climb to perhaps twice his height.
It was enough to give him a clear view of the carnage.
Daggrande stabbed and slashed, carefully coordinating his movements with the legionnaires on either side. The company fought bravely, but was forced to slowly give ground, forced backward by the tremendous press of bodies. Even should each man slay ten of the enemy, it seemed twenty more would step into the gap.
Now the veteran captain sensed the threat to the flanks of his company as the tremendous numbers of the attackers swept around him to the right and left. He tried to hasten the withdrawal, but dared not move too quickly. He knew, as did all the officers, that it was only their disciplined formation that gave them hope of survival against the mass of enemy warriors.
The prospects of that survival grew more bleak with each passing minute. Brave legionnaires fell to the ground, their bodies dragged down among the ranks of the natives. The withdrawal came to an abrupt halt as the natives swept around the rear to surround Daggrande's and Garrant's companies.
Daggrande thought of his commander in his distant tower. He knew Cordell could see the situation.
Now, my general! thought the dwarf. Now, or it will be too late!
'Now, by Helm!'
Cordell's shout anticipated the dipping banners, the pennants of his lancers, by a split second. The signal flashed as the flags swirled down and up. Trumpets blasted from each of his four wings of horsemen.
The hooves of the chargers pounded the turf as they quickly darted from the ravines. Each wing spread in a line abreast of each other. The general saw Captain Alvarro leading the first wing. Black streamers tied to his helmet clearly marked his position for the rest of the riders. Several lanky greyhounds ran at the heels of the horses, barking excitedly.
Cordell unconsciously held his breath. The extent of the native attack, the organized tactics and huge formations, stunned and awed him. He had grievously underestimated them.
Now he had one attack left. If the lancers failed, the Golden Legion faced imminent destruction.
Gultec found Lok standing quietly in the midst of the melee. The Eagle Knight's feathered armor was singed and bedraggled-looking. He did not seem to be wounded, but he swayed quietly, ignoring the chaos that swirled all around him.
'Are you hurt, my brother?' Gultec asked quietly. The euphoria of his battle joy still wrapped him warmly. He felt it as a tiny bubble of peace around Lok and Gultec. The comradeship warmed Gultec's heart, causing him to
