was like listening to his own funerary rites, Waylian didn’t want the warrior to stop. He knew what that would mean, that the battle would begin in earnest. As it went on he felt himself trembling at the knee, biting his lip, willing the voice on and on.
Until finally it stopped.
And the Khurtas charged.
Waylian’s hands began to shake. He glanced around, half wanting to see what the reaction of the other magisters was, half looking for somewhere to hide. Though there was a pall of fear all around, not one of the magisters moved from their spot.
That’s torn it, Grimm. You’ve not even got an excuse to run now!
Siege towers were dragged forward by beasts of burden, armoured and shielded in iron plate. Ladders a hundred foot long were carried by scores of screaming Khurtas, their shields raised against the flights of arrows raining down on them as they charged. In the distance Waylian could see a ram being pushed and dragged by men and beasts. To the rear of the horde trebuchets were being positioned, their forty-foot arms already winched in preparation of the death they would unleash.
Squinting down the length of the curtain wall Waylian could see archers firing in volley. Masses of arrows rained down, cutting through the Khurtas, but for every savage that fell another would take his place. For a moment Waylian felt panic grip him. There were no archers at this section of the wall. Who would stop the Khurtas climbing and attacking the Raven Knights head on?
For a moment he wanted to rush forward, to peer over the edge of the crenellated wall and see how close his doom was, but Gelredida’s order had been clear.
Stay behind her, Waylian. Don’t get in the way. Oh, and try not to get bloody killed.
He could hear the clatter of ladders from beyond the wall, but none of the magisters moved. Neither did the Raven Knights, holding their formation and awaiting Lucen Kalvor’s orders.
Waylian almost didn’t see the massive boulder as it flew out of the night. Almost didn’t notice it soar towards the gathered magickers like a silent meteor, ready to smash them all to pieces. Not that it would have mattered if he had; there was nothing he could have done about it anyway.
One of the senior magisters took a clumsy step forward, ducking his head and holding up an arm to the night sky. The boulder shattered at his unspoken command, splitting into myriad shards that landed all around them, peppering the platform like hail. A rock as big as a fist came to rest at Waylian’s feet and he stared at it for a moment, wondering what it would have felt like if it had struck him in the head.
Probably not much, you bloody dolt. Might have even knocked some sense into you.
Waylian watched the edge of the wall, expecting at any time a grim Khurtic face to rise up over the edge. He glanced to the Raven Knights, hoping beyond hope that they were not filled with the same fear and apprehension he was.
Something writhed in the dark between two of the wall’s merlons. At first Waylian couldn’t make it out, then it thrust forward, like the tentacle of some vast sea beast. It shot out, wrapping itself around a waiting Raven Knight and hoisting him into the air. With a powerful flick, the squirming appendage flung the screaming knight over the wall.
Lucen Kalvor bellowed for his men to brace themselves as yet more flailing tentacles appeared over the lip of the wall. In the dim light Waylian could see that they were not the arms of some land-borne leviathan but roots, as though the bowels of a tree had been animated and ordered to climb the wall. For a moment his mind flashed back to the arena days before, when that ancient tree had sprung to life intent on murder. Was this the same fell sorcery at work?
Does it actually matter a shit? You may well be about to die!
Branches battered against Raven Knight shields as the Khurtas began to seethe over the wall, their climb made easy by the vines and foliage that were even now growing
Until finally it stopped.
And the Khurtas charged.
Waylian’s hands began to shake. He glanced around, half wanting to see what the reaction of the other magisters was, half looking for somewhere to hide. Though there was a pall of fear all around, not one of the magisters moved from their spot.
That’s torn it, Grimm. You’ve not even got an excuse to run now!
Siege towers were dragged forward by beasts of burden, armoured and shielded in iron plate. Ladders a hundred foot long were carried by scores of screaming Khurtas, their shields raised against the flights of arrows raining down on them as they charged. In the distance Waylian could see a ram being pushed and dragged by men and beasts. To the rear of the horde trebuchets were being positioned, their forty-foot arms already winched in preparation of the death they would unleash.
Squinting down the length of the curtain wall Waylian could see archers firing in volley. Masses of arrows rained down, cutting through the Khurtas, but for every savage that fell another would take his place. For a moment Waylian felt panic grip him. There were no archers at this section of the wall. Who would stop the Khurtas climbing and attacking the Raven Knights head on?
For a moment he wanted to rush forward, to peer over the edge of the crenellated wall and see how close his doom was, but Gelredida’s order had been clear.
Stay behind her, Waylian. Don’t get in the way. Oh, and try not to get bloody killed.
He could hear the clatter of ladders from beyond the wall, but none of the magisters moved. Neither did the Raven Knights, holding their formation and awaiting Lucen Kalvor’s orders.
Waylian almost didn’t see the massive boulder as it flew out of the night. Almost didn’t notice it soar towards the gathered magickers like a silent meteor, ready to smash them all to pieces. Not that it would have mattered if he had; there was nothing he could have done about it anyway.
One of the senior magisters took a clumsy step forward, ducking his head and holding up an arm to the night sky. The boulder shattered at his unspoken command, splitting into myriad shards that landed all around them, peppering the platform like hail. A rock as big as a fist came to rest at Waylian’s feet and he stared at it for a moment, wondering what it would have felt like if it had struck him in the head.
Probably not much, you bloody dolt. Might have even knocked some sense into you.
Waylian watched the edge of the wall, expecting at any time a grim Khurtic face to rise up over the edge. He glanced to the Raven Knights, hoping beyond hope that they were not filled with the same fear and apprehension he was.
Something writhed in the dark between two of the wall’s merlons. At first Waylian couldn’t make it out, then it thrust forward, like the tentacle of some vast sea beast. It shot out, wrapping itself around a waiting Raven Knight and hoisting him into the air. With a powerful flick, the squirming appendage flung the screaming knight over the wall.
Lucen Kalvor bellowed for his men to brace themselves as yet more flailing tentacles appeared over the lip of the wall. In the dim light Waylian could see that they were not the arms of some land-borne leviathan but roots, as though the bowels of a tree had been animated and ordered to climb the wall. For a moment his mind flashed back to the arena days before, when that ancient tree had sprung to life intent on murder. Was this the same fell sorcery at work?
Does it actually matter a shit? You may well be about to die!
Branches battered against Raven Knight shields as the Khurtas began to seethe over the wall, their climb made easy by the vines and foliage that were even now growing
Similar Books
