Page 383 of Of Empires and Dust
The beast lashed out with its black claws, but Nimara was too quick. She ducked the strike, grabbed her second short axe from her left hip, and swung the blade upwards into the creature’s chin. The steel cleaved the bone and burst through the Bloodmarked’s mouth and up into its skull. It went limp and collapsed into the mud.
Nimara planted a foot on its head, then heaved her short axe free from its neck. She flipped the weapon in the air, shifting it into the correct orientation, then turned and launched it into a charging Urak’s skull. The beast dropped dead instantly in a splash of mud.
As Yoring, Almer, and the others flowed around her and Dahlen, Nimara yanked Dahlen’s blade free of the dead Bloodmarked’s leg and tossed it to him.
Dahlen snatched the sword from the air as he rose, deflecting the swipe of a black steel blade and driving his second sword deep into the guts of the weapon’s wielder.
“You’ve really got to look after those better.” Nimara planted her foot on the dead Bloodmarked’s skull and dragged her battle-axe free. As she did, another Bloodmarked charged through the swell of bodies at the gates and slammed its hands together. Men and Uraks alike were thrown into the air as a wave of concussive force erupted from the creature’s hand, igniting the air in a wreath of flames. Dahlen swung his blades up and sheathed them with a practiced efficiency, then threw all his weight forwards and tackled Nimara to the ground.
The pair fell backwards over a mutilated corpse and hit the ground with a slap, the mud sucking at the dwarf’s armour. Hespread himself over Nimara as piercing screams sounded behind them and the ground shook.
Once the heat from the fire faded, he rolled off her and onto his back. The ground where they had stood was cracked, shattered, and burning, and upon it lay the corpses of both sides. He could tell by the armour that three of his Silver Wolves had been caught in the blast, alongside a score of others.
He threw himself to his feet and lunged forwards, pulling his swords from their scabbards and taking two Uraks’ heads from their shoulders in quick succession. He twisted to avoid the thrust of a black spear, then drove his blade through the face of the wielder, splitting grey skin, blood pouring. He jammed an elbow into the creature’s chest, turned, and pulled the blade free.
He looked about at the chaos that slowly consumed everything. The Uraks were no longer flooding through the gate alone. They surged through breaches in the broken palisade and leapt from the ramparts. All about, the men and women of Salme did everything they could to hold back the tide, but they would soon be overrun. Looking into the distance, he could see the same was true of the western and eastern walls.
They needed to pull back to the first boundaries. That had been his plan from the beginning. A staged retreat towards the central square. Before his brother had arrived with the army, there had been no chance of victory. Dahlen had known that. But he had planned to take as many Uraks with him from this world as he could.
“Fall back to the first boundary!” He grabbed the mud-smeared horn that hung around his neck and blew four sharp bursts. “We cannot hold them here! To the first boundary!”
Dahlen sheathed a blade and snatched up a round Valtaran shield from a man who wouldn’t need it anymore. He turned to face the rush. “Silver Wolves. With me!”
Barely two heartbeats had passed by the time Thannon pressed hard against Dahlen’s side, the other former Kingsguard doing the same.
Nimara fell in to Dahlen’s left, a shield clutched in one hand, a bearded axe in the other, her massive battle-axe slung across her back. Others joined: Yoring, Almer, and the dwarves of Durakdur, along with Kara Thain, Lanan Halfhand, and – to Dahlen’s surprise – the Alamant, Oaken Polik.
They fell back slow and steady, holding tight while the rest of the defenders about the gates retreated into the main thoroughfare that ran through the city. As they moved, Lanan called out, “The walls!”
Dahlen lifted his gaze to see Erdhardt Hammersmith charging across the blazing walls. The man swung his hammer at anything that moved, crushing Urak skulls as they climbed over ladders, smashing knees and jaws with monstrous backswings. The beasts were so caught off guard by the audacity that by the time any of them turned to face him head-on, he was leaping from the ramparts.
“He has a fucking death wish.” Dahlen watched as Erdhardt was swallowed by the swell of Urak bodies.
“Don’t do it.” Nimara glared at him from behind her shield as an Urak axe smashed into the rim. “Don’t fucking do it.”
“He’s going to do it.” Almer swung his right hand over his shield and slapped his axe into an Urak’s chest, pulling it free as the beast flopped to the ground.
Dahlen looked down into Nimara’s eyes. “I have to.” He drew a sharp breath, rolled his shoulders back, and heaved forwards. His shield crashed into a charging Urak, knocking it off balance. He drove his blade into the beast’s groin, twisted, then yanked it free and opened the Urak’s throat. “Fall back!” he roared as he charged forwards.
He couldn’t leave Erdhardt to die, even though part of him believed the man couldn’t be killed. Dahlen had never seen someone throw themselves into the heart of battle as wantonly as Erdhardt Fellhammer, with little thought of self-preservation. And yet, somehow, the gods refused to allow him to die.
Dahlen smashed his shield rim into an Urak jaw, then carved open the beast’s belly with a single swing, innards steaming as they spilled onto the sodden earth. The massive creatures couldn’t move as nimbly in the thick mud, and he took advantage of that. He swung and carved through an extended arm, then took a spear to the shield.
Nimara appeared at his side, blood trailing in the wake of her axe. She moved as though she always knew what would happen next, smooth and fluid, each step carefully chosen, each turn and twist of the body taken with meticulous care. From the very first moment he had seen her fight, he’d known that the gold and silver rings worked into her hair had been well earned. She was one of the most ferocious warriors he’d ever known.
She hacked and slashed through Urak limbs with a fury, and as her eyes met Dahlen’s, he thought he could see a vibrant yellow tinge to her irises.
An Urak swung a wicked black hammer straight into the dwarf’s shield, and Dahlen’s heart skipped. But Nimara took the blow head-on, barely flinching when Dahlen himself would have been knocked to his arse. She twisted, dropped her lead shoulder, and opened the Urak’s face with her axe. As she pulled it free, she turned to Dahlen. And in that moment, he saw that her iriseshadin fact taken on a hue of yellow, though her pupils had grown, leaving only the thinnest ring of colour. Her body shook, a fury in her voice. “Get him!”
To Dahlen’s right, a circle had opened around Erdhardt, several bodies piled at his feet. The Uraks could have killed him then and there if they’d piled in, but instead they seemedto take some kind of sport in it, each stepping forwards one by one to see who could kill the giant with the black hammer. But Erdhardt moved like a demon, ducking below strikes, then crushing jaws and skulls in single blows.
In that moment, Erdhardt sidestepped the thrust of a spear from the edge of the circle, then brought the meat-grinder end of his hammer down onto the Urak’s elbow before driving the spiked end into the creature’s skull with a monstrous backswing. The heat of battle was one thing, but there was no man Dahlen knew who could go toe to toe with Uraks in that way without the Spark. His father, maybe, but Aeson lacked Erdhardt’s raw strength.
Dahlen charged at the circle. He needed to give Erdhardt a way out. Yoring and Camwyn charged with him, along with three men of Salme. But before they’d reached the man, a thunderous roar erupted from the gates, and a column of cavalry crashed into the Urak mass. Streaks of lightning surged from a rider’s hands, fire pluming. Elves rode on the backs of massive white stags, while others sat astride horses barded in the colours of Loria. The riders tore through the Urak ranks with abandon, the Spark wreaking utter havoc and devastation.
With the Uraks taken off guard, Dahlen charged forwards, carving a path to Erdhardt. When he grabbed the man’s arm, Erdhardt spun on his heels, stopping with his hammer levelled in the air, his eyes wide with a murderous fury. The man’s chest heaved, sweat and rain streaming down his face.
“We need to go!” Dahlen roared, tugging at Erdhardt’s arm, but moving him was like trying to move a boulder. “Erdhardt. We need to go!”
