Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [103]
But one thing was clear: Kaeda must have delivered the message, and all of Asha’s Army had assembled at Giltspire. That was cause for great joy.
The legions of Bant were assembled just in time too, for Malfegor and his army were only a day behind Rafiq. The undead army hadn’t stopped to rest, so the knight-general and his knights hadn’t been able to either. Rafiq had stopped at a guard station just inside the borders of Bant to find a place to stay for some of the survivors from Grixis, including Levac and his wife Sayah. He had ridden on, switching mounts at every village he came to, riding day and night until he arrived at Giltspire.
There was one man, an old rhox friend of his, who he wished he could have stopped to see. How had Mubin fared in his absence? If they lived through Malfegor’s tyranny, then Rafiq had exciting news for him. Rafiq hoped the shipment of carmot, the red stone crucial to the creation of etherium, had made it back to Bant.
“Knight-General!” said a knight riding up to him. Rafiq recognized her, and her crisp salute. “I am Knight-Captain Elspeth.”
Rafiq managed a smile. “How’s your head, Knight-Captain?”
“Fine, sir, fine. I’m glad you made it back safely. But you must be exhausted. Please come with me. We have food and healers, and a place for you to rest.”
“No time for that,” said Rafiq. “Tell me, Elspeth, do you know the word ‘demon’?”
Color bleached from Elspeth’s face. Rafiq took that as a yes.
“A demon of legend, Malfegor, leads an army from a place of death. His army is not far behind me. You must take me directly to the command tent.”
The horns of Malfegor were the first sign they heard of the Grixis army coming over the hill.
“Get the casters ready,” said Knight-General Rafiq. “What’s the status on the Sighted caste?”
“The clerics are ready, and the monks,” said Knight-Captain Elspeth. “They await your signal.”
“Okay. Tell them to get started.”
“Sir.” Elspeth dashed from the command tent. Rafiq heard her shouting “Clerics!” outside, and the beginnings of the anthem being chanted.
“You,” Rafiq said to another captain. “The archers. Have them send volleys as soon as the enemy’s in range. And then send in the knights.”
The captain nodded, saluted, and left the tent.
There was only one other person left in the tent: a squire.
“And you,” said Rafiq. “Is my armor repaired?”
The squire beamed and nodded. “I fitted it with the back plate, just as you requested, Knight-General.”
“Good,” said Rafiq. “Let’s get it on me. And fetch my sword.”
Outside the ruins of Giltspire, the arrows rained down on Malfegor’s troops. Some of the undead minions bothered to raise wooden shields to the assault, but most didn’t. The shafts jabbed through flesh as they were meant to, but the undead didn’t mind. In fact, it made them a little spikier, a little tougher to close for melee, for the ground battle to come.
Malfegor sent in the kathari. They were unreliable bird-creatures, sickly and cowardly, but they blackened the sky with their numbers. Arrows tore through them, thinning them by a tenth in a matter of moments. Again, Malfegor didn’t mind. They fell on the battlefield ahead of his main force, providing carrion for the ground troops to feed upon.
The rest of the kathari slashed into the bright-feathered aven. The efficient movements of the aven of Bant contrasted with the deranged squawking and snapping of the kathari, but both were effective, and the kathari outnumbered the aven over three to one.
On the ground, leotau-mounted knights slammed into the zombies and skeletons of the main force. The knights were brutally proficient, and clearly guarded by protection magic; they sliced through Malfegor’s offense unimpeded.
“Fleshwarpers, hit the knights,” muttered Malfegor to one of his necromancers. “And mop up with the first wave of dreg reavers.”
Gangs of necromantic taskmages engaged the knights, sending spells at them that temporarily dismantled the protection spells and then deformed the paladins’ flesh. The knights screamed as they fell from their mounts,