It was a long metal sword, with a jewel-encrusted pommel and leather-wrapped handle. ‘Creeeated by the Panterran blacksssmiths, and harder than the ssstrongessst Wolfen sssteeel. Made from a block of the ancient’s hardest iron’
She turned the sword over and sliced the air with it. ‘The weaponnn of a true championnn.’ She sat forward, her near hairless body cloaked by the darkest hour of the night.
‘The championnn who brings me Grimvaldr’sss head, will have thisss weapon as proof of hisss mighty deeeed.’
The crowd roared, and the sound washed across the hilltop as news of the reward passed along the ranks.
Mogahr lowered the sword and looked to Orcalion.
‘Begin the attttack.’
Chapter 47
They Do Not Know Who it Is They Fight
Grimvaldr stood in his stirrups and looked along the line of warriors. His elite were organised into two hundred phalanxes, five deep and ten long. Rows of archers stood in position behind them, and then two columns of another twenty thousand Wolfen.
The castle once had rolling green plain spread out before it, gentle hills rising into forest along its sides. Now, the plain was churned, the forest burning; the king surveyed the horizon, knowing that after several days of preparation, they were out of time. There would only be one chance.
Grimvaldr turned to two of his generals, Lon and Karnak. ‘The east and west columns must not break. You must keep the Panterran attack funnelled down the centre of the plain. If too many of the gravilents get in among our troops, their armoured hide will take too long to penetrate, and we do not have the time or troops to spend on bringing them down.’
Karnak nodded. ‘Mighty stones have been piled high, and on top of that will be Wolfen spears — they will not break on our eastern side, sire.’ He looked at Lon. ‘And if the general needs help, I’ll make sure they don’t break on his side as well.’
Lon laughed and struck Karnak’s armour with his fist. ‘You’ll be singing in Valhalla long before they break my line, oldling.’
The generals both turned to Grimvaldr. ‘Ready, sire. On your word.’
‘Take your positions.’
Karnak and Lon turned to each other and gripped gauntleted hands at shoulder height as they stared into each other’s face. Lon spoke quietly. ‘May Odin allow us to spill rivers of Panterran blood before he calls us.’
Karnak grinned. ‘Odin’s strength, brother.’
Both pulled on their reins and wheeled their horses, racing them to either side of the plain.
Grimvaldr watched them go as Sorenson rode up beside him. ‘The scouts report that no sign of the far Wolfen have been sighted.’
Grimvaldr looked to the sky. ‘They will come… If they are able, they will come.’
The Panterran’s drumming stopped, and horns blared eerily across the plain.
‘They come.’ Grimvaldr turned his horse back to the front of the ranks with Sorenson beside him. He rode along the lines of Wolfen, holding up his fist. In turn, the Wolfen thumped gauntleted fists against their chests as he passed.
‘This day, we face a threat from vile creatures of the dark. They will give no quarter — neither must you. The Panterran would seek to bring this kingdom down, and crush the Wolfen into dust.’ The king roared, ‘But they do not know who it is they fight!’
A roar rose all along the ranks. The sound of fists being beaten against armour was deafening as Grimvaldr rode along the lines of his Wolfen.
‘I will lead you into battle, and I will see victory, or I will see you in Valhalla. Odin be with the mighty Wolfen!’
Grimvaldr lowered his visor. The silver snarling wolf covered his own fearsome visage, making him seem like a shining automaton made for war.
Along the lines, one after another, steel visors clanked down into place.
The Wolfen were ready.
Mogahr was carried in a sedan chair to the highest point on the hill, so she could watch the chaos from on high. She smiled, counting the ranks of the Wolfen warriors, knowing she had them enormously outnumbered.
‘The foolisssh king waitsss in vain for hisss warriorsss from the far landsss. Perhapsss he will be joining them, before they will be joining him.’ Her hissing laugh carried in the air, but was drowned out by the sound of the massive gravilents, lumbering out onto the plain.
The giant creatures were fully armoured now, their heads were covered in iron helmets that had long sharp spikes welded into their flesh to the sides and front. In battle, they would swing their low skulls from side to side, decimating the tightly packed troops.
These living tanks swarmed with Panterran archers and Lygon warriors. The beasts’ objectives were simple — break through the forward ranks of the Wolfen, so the Panterran could rain arrows down on their heads, and then allow the Lygon to drop down and bring hell in among their midst.
And this would only be the first wave of the Panterran attack.
Mogahr hissed, ‘Take me a little clossser, I wisssh to sssmell the blood as it flowsss.’
Sorenson watched as the colossal beasts started to pick up speed. Still in almost total darkness, the moving mountains were unmistakable. To the east and west, Lon and Karnak’s columns had done their job. By piling boulders high, they created an uneven battleground that did not suit the low, heavy war-beasts. For now, their riders would choose a path that allowed them to pick up speed — right down the Wolfen elite’s throats, and right where Grimvaldr wanted them.
Sorenson looked to the king next to him; like the rest of the front-line Wolfen, their expressions were unreadable behind their helmets, but all waited on Grimvaldr’s word. Beside the king sat Freya, her hand already on the hilt of her sword, and next to her was the smaller figure of Eilif, her head bowed.
Sorenson moved up beside the princess, and could hear the small whisper of a voice drifting out from behind her visor — perhaps a prayer. He reached out to touch her shoulder. At first, she jumped at the contact, but then settled back in her saddle. He leaned across to her.
‘There was an old philosopher who once said, “Use an enemy’s strength against it, and make that strength its weakness.”’ He lifted his visor and smiled at her. ‘Fear not, princess. We have a few tricks to play yet.’
Eilif nodded jerkily and she drew in a shuddering breath.
The Wolfen on horseback pulled at their reins as the horses started to become agitated. By now, they could not have failed to catch the scent of the strange beasts approaching them. Every Wolfen could feel the thunderous impact of the gravilents’ feet as they struck the ground, each now reaching speeds akin to a horse’s gallop. Unchecked, they would easily crash through the Wolfen lines.
Grimvaldr raised a fist. ‘Hold.’ His voice was strong and steady.
Sorenson lowered his visor.
Eilif felt smothered beneath the steel of her helmet. She looked left and right along the line of riders; all faced the coming attack bar one — a dozen warriors down the line, one looked back towards her. It was Bergborr; she could tell by the dark crest and black horse tail streaming from the rear of his helmet. He raised a fist to his chest and opened his hand towards her.
My heart for you, the gesture meant. She was supposed to catch it and press it to her chest. Instead, she looked away.
She felt a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, and closed her eyes — wishing that when she
