Striking the ground, the desert prince rolled—
He heard Sinter shouting – heard Kisswhere’s cursing—
Gaining his feet, Skulldeath found himself surrounded. He twisted, slashed, ducked, kicked and closed. Bodies fell away. Blood sprayed.
Then a blow hammered his lower back, lifted him from his feet. He tried curling away from the blow, but something was jammed in his body, a hard edge crunching and grinding against his spine. He was driven to the ground face first, and then they were beating on him – heavy edges chopping into his muscles and bones.
One struck the back of his head and there was darkness, and then oblivion.
Hedge stood over the corpse of Bavedict – the damned fool had been killed outright by that first shower of arrows, taking one through an eye. From his vantage point Hedge could see the ring of defenders contracting as the enemy pushed higher up the slope. He watched Fiddler moving down to block an imminent breach where most of a squad had gone down.
‘You – archers – keep an eye on there. If they get through it’s a straight path to the Crippled God.’
‘Yes sir!’
‘Now, the rest of you – we got to relieve the pressure. Take those coppery ones and throw for the fifth and sixth ranks – use ’em all up. If we don’t make ’em reel right now we’re done for.’
‘What’s the copper kittens do, sir?’
Hedge shook his head. ‘I forget, and the alchemist’s dead. Just go – spread out, get moving!’
As they left, the sapper took up his crossbow – he only had half a dozen quarrels left. The occasional arrow still sailed down here and there, but either the sappers he’d dug in below the slope were all dead or they’d used up their munitions – it’d be just his luck if some errant arrow took him or Fiddler out now.
Loading his weapon, he moved down past his four remaining archers, who were sending arrows into the breach. He could see Fiddler, there with those Dal Honese sisters and a lone heavy infantryman shorter than any of them. The Kolansii who’d been advancing to flank them were all down, feathered with arrows. ‘Good work,’ barked out Hedge to his archers. ‘Now find somewhere else you’re needed.’
A stone turned underfoot and Fiddler’s left ankle gave way in a stab of pain. Cursing, he stumbled. Looked up to see a Kolansii closing – the eyes manic and wild beneath the helm, a heavy axe lifting high.