Dourin listened, and then he laughed.
???
From her position atop the western rampart, Ellina watched the Dark Army approach the city. She could see where resistance soldiers were hidden behind buildings along the road. She could see how, as the enemy marched up the street, those soldiers did not move to attack.
Why did they not attack?
Ellina’s fingers dug into the parapet’s stone. This was not part of the plan. The battle was supposed to happenthere,on the road outside the city. The cannons and catapults were already in place, trenches dug in strategic locations, archers at the ready. Allowing the Dark Army to move into Hurendue’s streets would be as good as inviting defeat. Yet the resistance remained hidden.
The torches flickered in an undetectable breeze. Behind her, the archers shifted, their arrows tapping against wooden bowgrips as they readied but did not draw. Ellina ground her teeth, wishing for a voice, if for no other reason than to vent her frustration.
She watched, appalled, as the Dark Army crossed unopposed into the city.
???
Venick tracked the southerners as they drew even with his position, then passed beyond the city’s border. The wide road funneled into a plaza, which butted up against the Angor River. Meanwhile, the twin hills, though not steep, provided enough of an obstacle to dissuade access. The Dark Army poured between them like water into a divot.
Venick kept his hand lifted in a signal to hold. More enemy elves, then. Green glass weapons. Helmets stamped with the Dark Queen’s insignia, a black and red raven cupped between twin flames. Infantry, to mix with the cavalry. Some of the horses were fitted with armor. Others had currigon feathers tied to their manes and tails. The red plumes flipped in the wind.
Within the Dark Army’s center ranks, Venick could see a tight ring of soldiers encircling a small band of elves. There weren’t many—eight, maybe nine in total. The last of Farah’s conjurors. And there among them, sitting astride a tall warhorse, dressed from head to boots in gleaming armor: Farah herself.
A pulse of hot anger. A murderous longing.
Venick hadn’t expected to see Farah riding with her army. Previously, she’d seemed content to wield her power from a distance. Venick didn’t know what it meant that she’d chosen to join her ranks now, only that the sight put a hard, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Cut the legs off the beast,Venick had once said to Dourin, which was something his father had once said to him,and you stop it in its tracks.
Yet why go for the legs, when you could sever the head?
Venick waited until the Dark Army was fully inside the city before giving the signal.
The resistance emerged from hiding to close them in from behind.
???
Ellina watched the clash from above.
Horses reared. The rearguard—or was that now the front line?—disintegrated. The scene devolved into chaos. Yet deeper in the Dark Army’s ranks, Farah’s forces held.
The wind picked up, tossing Ellina’s hair. Overhead, clouds thickened. The streets below were going dark, the torches all pitching black as if someone was rubbing them out. A boom of thunder.
And Venick?
Buildings blocked her view. Ellina could not quite see. Even with her elven vision, the streets were too dark and the battle too chaotic to discern anything more than the general shape of things. And Ellina did not like the general shape.
Presumably, there was a reason Venick had allowed the Dark Army to enter the city they were supposed to be defending. Though she often called him a fool, Venick was smart. Cunning. Blind, sometimes, though never in battle. He would not change the plan for nothing.
Unless something had gone wrong. Unless he was unable to deliver his commands.
Ellina realized that she had begun to imagine Venick immune to harm. Some part of her must believe what people said, that he was god-touched, because what else could explain how he had become so invulnerable? Or maybe it was that she had become too vulnerable. Her weaknesses made him seem untouchable by comparison.
But Venick was not untouchable. He was human. He could bleed and he could die. She might even watch it happen there, tonight.
Fear worked its way through her heart.
???
In the first wave, Venick nearly lost his sword. When an enemy’s horse came crashing forward, Venick threw out his arm, sliced the animal across its chest. Tossed the rider, yes, but nearly wrenched his weapon from his grip.
