Alliances

Kerian watched in amazement as elves seized wagons and carts and started up the sharp grade. The first cart was dragged a further twenty yards. Its elves announced the discovery of another road, narrower than Silveran’s Way but in better condition. They had found Birch Trail.

The caravan comprised thirty-one carts and thirty-five wagons. There weren’t enough elves in the militia to haul all of them up at once, so as teams reached Birch Trail, they had to slide back down the hill and take another turn.

Kerian left them to it and headed down the road to find Samar and the guards, preparing to defend against five times their number of bandits.

“Orexas has them hauling the wagons up by hand,” she reported. “The horses can’t make it.”

Samar glanced at his own mount. “How do we get up there?”

“We don’t.” Kerian drew her sword and rested the flat of the blade against her shoulder. Another rider joined them. Her eyes widened. “You’re in no shape to fight!”

Hytanthas Ambrodel, pale and wan but sitting straight in the saddle, shifted the sword he carried. “I’ll not be carried up a hill like freight,” he replied testily. She could not argue with that.

Soon enough the tramp of many booted feet reached their ears, loud even in the deadened air of Nalis Aren. Another sound played counterpoint: the high crack of whips. Kerian knew the meaning of that.

“Goblin infantry! Stand by to receive an infantry attack!”

By sections, the warriors wheeled about and rode back sixty yards, halting near the end of the caravan. Coming toward them was a phalanx of goblins in black-painted armor. Behind each of the four companies, a human officer rode on horseback. On foot in front of him were half a dozen sergeants, driving the goblins forward with whips.

When the goblins spied the mounted elves, the foremost company halted and their ten-foot pikes dropped briefly. Then, with a concerted shout, they lurched forward again.

“Any tactical suggestions?” Samar asked, seating a helmet on his head.

“Kill them.”

Smiling grimly, Samar raised his sword and shouted, “Elves! By section, charge!”

It was hard for the goblins to gather much momentum while marching uphill, but the downhill slope gave the elves extra impetus. The sight of the Silvanesti hurtling toward them caused the front ranks of goblins to miss a step, despite the whips driving them onward.

The two forces collided. The elves beat aside the goblins’ pikes so they passed harmlessly overhead. The first two ranks of goblins fell beneath the weight of the horses. Kerian stood in her stirrups and laid about on both sides. The result was simple slaughter. The goblins’ shields were slung on their backs, in marching order. Without protection, the creatures were defenseless once their pikes were deflected.

Despite the redoubled efforts of the sergeants and their whips, the rear ranks backed away. Goblins along the edges of the formation were shoved off balance and went tumbling down the hill, smashing into stones and tree trunks. The entire first company broke, retreating into the ranks of the second.

Samar gave the command to withdraw. Bloody but intact, the elves rode back to where they had started.

Wiping sweat from her eyes, despite the unnatural chill around the lake, Kerian saw a flock of dark birds take flight from trees higher up the hillside. They were carrion birds, the kind that collected at every battlefield, but something had frightened them into flight.

“Ambush!” she cried.

Her warning came a fatal second too late. A swarm of arrows plunged down among the guards. Some found their marks, and elves fell. The remaining guards scattered, with some trying to ride up the hillside at the concealed archers.

Their mounts met with no more success than had the cart horses. A second volley whistled down, and many of the riders struggling up the slope dropped from their saddles.

Something bumped Kerian’s horse, and she heard a gasp. Samar swayed in the saddle, an arrow lodged under his left arm. He’d thrown himself in front of her and taken a missile that would have hit her. He slumped over and she yelled at him to hang on. At her command, Hytanthas grabbed the reins of Samar’s horse and led the wounded elf away.

Surrounded by dead and wounded, Kerian turned her back on the bandit army. She lifted her buckler aloft to ward off plunging arrows and shouted, “Elves of Bianost, rally to me! Fight for yourselves! Fight for your people!”

In twos and threes, volunteers crawled out from under the remaining wagons. They were terrified, faces pale as snow, but Kerian was proud of them. They were none of them warriors, yet they came.

“Yes! Well done!” she cried. “We won’t let them sting us like this! Rally to me! Let’s flush out those hornets!”