Crusade - James Lowder [139]
"Yamun Khahan," Azoun said to himself. He took a step forward and tightened his grip on his shield and his sword.
The khahan must have seen Azoun, too, for he kicked his black charger into motion. As his mount bounded over the muddy ground, the ruler of the Tuigan shouted something in his own guttural language. The Cormyrian king didn't know that the khahan was shouting an oath, calling upon his legendary status as the chosen of the Tuigan sky god, but that didn't matter. All Azoun saw was the well-muscled horse with its angry, cursing rider heading toward him. He lifted his shield and bent his knees slightly, preparing to dodge the khahan's attack.
A short soldier in beautifully crafted armor stepped in front of Azoun, holding his sword before him like a lance. The king tried to push past the stocky dwarf, but the ironlord would not be moved. Torg mac Cei wanted the honor of slaying the khahan: the Tuigan leader's skull would be a fine addition to the mounds in Earthfast. Stepping back, Azoun attempted to lure the khahan away from the dwarf. The ironlord had little chance of striking a blow against the mounted barbarian, and it was only his colossal pride that made him try.
As Azoun expected, Torg's stand was indeed futile.
Yamun Khahan raced forward, pointing his horse directly at the ironlord.
When the armored dwarf moved out of the way, Yamun sliced down with his curved sword. Torg's armor was perhaps the finest ever crafted in the halls of Earthfast, but it could not protect him from Yamun's powerful blow. With a screeching sound, the Tuigan blade struck the armor on the ironlord's neck and bit far into his back. Torg was dead before he hit the ground.
"Azoun of Cor-meer!" the khahan shouted as he wheeled his horse around to face the king. The Tuigan jammed his heels into the mount's side and drove it forward.
Azoun had not missed the trick Yamun Khahan had used on Torg, and he assumed the barbarian would use his horse to force him into a poor defensive position, too. The king moved long before the khahan's mount reached him, feinting first to the right, then dodging left. The ploy almost didn't work, and the khahan's sword scraped Azoun's helmet and knocked his shield away.
Gritting his teeth against the pain from his wounded leg, the king decided that he'd best not try to feint again.
Yamun Khahan threw his head back and laughed as his horse drove Torg's corpse deeper into the mud. For an instant, time seemed to slow down for Azoun, and he saw the myriad of individual battles going on around him as if they were occurring in slow motion. A few yards away, Vrakk and Farl were fighting desperately against Tuigan soldiers they had knocked from their horses. Arrows were streaming overhead, interspersed with occasional flashes of fire and beams of magical energy. Alusair, he realized with a sudden start, was nowhere in sight.
The king's heart caught in his throat, and he wanted to cry out. In that same instant, however, the khahan's black mount leaped forward, kicking up a shower of muddy water. In four paces it was bearing down on Azoun.
Sidestepping only slightly, the king slapped the horse's front legs with the flat of his blade. The beast skidded to a stop, then lost its footing in the mud and toppled. As the horse fell, Yamun rolled from the saddle. The khahan wanted to stay clear of his mount, the only thing that would give him a chance to fight on. As he soon learned, the battleground was fast becoming a mire; with a curse, the self-styled Illustrious Emperor of All Peoples slid onto his back in the mud.
Azoun stepped forward and brought his sword up to attack. It seemed for an instant that the khahan was helpless. Weighted down by his heavy