Arad Doman would be crushed between the Seanchan and the Trollocs. You'd better keep your word, boy.
He couldn't retreat into Maradon, unfortunately. The Saldaeans there had made it quite clear they considered Ituralde and the Dragon Reborn to be invaders. Bloody fools. At least he had a chance to destroy lose siege engines.
Another body hit the top of the command pavilion, but the roof held, om the stink and, in some cases, splash of those deceased Trollocs, ley'd not chosen the newly dead for this assault. Confident that his offi-rs were seeing to their duties now was not the time to interfere uralde clasped his hands behind him. Seeing him, soldiers both inside id out of the pavilion stood a little straighter. The best of plans lasted only until the first arrow hit, but a determined, unyielding commander could bring order to chaos by the way he held himself.
Overhead, the storm boiled, clouds of silver-and black like a blackened at hanging above a cook fire, bits of steel shining through at the edges of te crusted soot. It was unnatural. Let his men see that he did not fear it, 'en when it hailed corpses upon them.
Wounded were carried away, and men in the lower camp began to reak it down, preparing to move it farther back. He kept his archers and ossbowmen firing, pikemen ready along the bulwarks. He had a sizable ivalry, but couldn't use them here.
Those trebuchets, if left alone, would wear his men down with boulas and sprayshot but Ituralde intended to see them burned first, using i Asha'man or a strike force with flaming arrows through a gateway.
If only I could retreat into Maradon. But the Saldaean lord there wouldn't t him in; if Ituralde fell back to the city, he'd get smashed against those walls by the Trollocs.
Bloody, bloody fools. What kind of idiots denied men refuge when an army of Shadowspawn was knocking on their gates?
"I want damage assessments," Ituralde said to Lieutenant Nils. "Prepare the archers for an attack on those siege engines, and bring two of the sha'man who are on duty. Tell Captain Creedin to watch that Trolloc assault across the ford. They'll redouble their efforts following this barrage, ; they'll presume us disordered."
The young man nodded and hastened off as Rajabi limped into the
pavilion, rubbing his broad chin. "You guessed right again about those trebuchets. They did set them up to attack us."
"I try to always guess right," Ituralde said. "When I don't, we lose."
Rajabi grunted. Overhead, that storm boiled. In the distance, Ituralde could hear Trollocs calling. War drums beating. Men shouting.
"Something's wrong," Ituralde said.
"This whole bloody war is wrong," Rajabi said. "We shouldn't be here; it should be the Saldaeans. Their whole army, not only the few horsemen the Lord Dragon gave us."
"More than that," Ituralde said, scanning the sky. "Why carcasses, Rajabi?"
"To demoralize us."
It was a not-unheard-of tactic. But the first volleys? Why not use stones when they'd do the most damage, and then move to bodies once surprise had been expended? The Trollocs hadn't a mind for tactics, but the Fades . . . they could be crafty. He'd learned that firsthand.
As Ituralde stared at the sky, another massive volley fell, as if spawned by the dark clouds. Light, where had they gotten that many trebuchets? Enough to throw hundreds of dead bodies.
There are sixteen by his count, the boy had said. Not nearly enough. Were some of those carcasses falling too evenly?
It hit him like a burst of frozen rain. Those clever bloody monsters!
"Archers!" Ituralde screamed. "Archers, watch the skies! Those aren't bodies!"
It was too late. As he yelled, the Draghkar unfurled their wings; well over half of the "carcasses" in this volley were living Shadowspawn, hiding among the falling bodies. After the first Draghkar attack on his army a few days back, he'd left archers on permanent rotation watching the skies day and night.
But the archers didn't have orders to fire on falling bodies. Ituralde continued to bellow as he leaped out of the pavilion and whipped his sword from its scabbard. The upper camp became chaos as Draghkar dropped amid the soldiers. A large number of them fell around the command pavilion, their too-large black eyes shining, drawing men toward them with their sweet songs.
Ituralde screamed as loud as he could, filling his ears with the sound of his own voice. One of the beasts came for him, but his yell prevented him from hearing its croon. It looked surprised as surprised as something so inhuman could look as he stumbled toward it, pretending to be drawn, then struck an expert thrust through its neck. Dark blood
ribbled down across milky white skin as Ituralde yanked his blade free, till screaming.
He saw Rajabi stumble and fall to the ground as one of the Shadowspawn leaped on him. Ituralde couldn't go to him he was confronted by nother of the monsters himself. In a blessed moment, he noticed balls of re striking down Draghkar in the air the Asha'man.
But at the same time, in the distance, he heard the war drums grow auder. As he'd predicted, the churning force of Trollocs would be striking cross the ford with as much strength as they ever had. Light, but sometimes he hated being right.
You'd better keep your promise to send me help, boy, Ituralde thought as he caught the second Draghkar, his screaming growing hoarse. Light, but you'd better!
Faile strode through Perrin's camp, the air ringing with chattering voices, grunts of exertion and calls of men giving orders. Perrin had sent one last request to the Whitecloaks for parley, and there had been no reply yet.