King Selric’s army, rattling sword upon shield, steeled themselves for the clash. Theido and Ronsard launched their coursers to meet the charge.

There was an enormous crash. The earth trembled with the shock.

Dust billowed up to shroud the combatants from view. Horses screamed and the cold clang of steel rang out. When the dust parted Selric saw that Theido and Ronsard and their riders had succeeded in lancing through their opponents with but little hurt to their numbers; what is more, they had succeeded in unhorsing one of the Legion. His horse lay screaming in agony on the field, but he on foot came on.

Theido, ignoring the sable knights, turned his attack inward upon the more assailable enemy. Jaspin’s own knights, surprised at this strategy, nevertheless joined battle with the onrushing knights. Instantly, all were surrounded by the foot soldiers who thronged to the fight.

“Away!” cried King Selric, and the trumpeter sounded the call as the stalwart thousand rushed to join the combat.

Footmen struggled to pull down the armored knights-for as long as a knight held horse he proved well-nigh invincible.

The knights rained blows upon the ill-protected heads of the footmen and took on each other in turn. Unsaddled knights grouped their comrades behind them and advanced like living shields once more into the struggle.

Theido hacked his way into the thick of the strife, but his followers failed to keep pace and were cut off. He became stranded in an angry sea of enemy soldiers. Throwing his shield before him he bore down, his arm rising and falling upon the necks of his attackers. Then he felt a jolt and glanced down to see an enemy spear jutting from his mount’s side. The horse reared screaming and plunged down, hooves flashing out, destroying the face of its assailant. Theido slumped to the ground with his dying horse as eager hands thrust out to haul him from the saddle.

Ronsard saw his comrade fall and turned his charger into the thick of the fray. His sword sang through the air and the whistling blade became a flashing rampart before him. Enemies flung themselves down to the ground rather than face his terrible sting.

The fearless knight plunged into the tumult surrounding Theido and in an instant three of the foe crumpled to the earth. As the enemy drew back, Ronsard reached down a hand and pulled Theido to his feet and up behind him on his horse. “Your hand is much appreciated, good friend,” said Theido.

“A knight without a mount is a sorry sight. I do not like to see my friends looking so forlorn,” Ronsard replied as they bounded away.

King Selric hewed a swath before him as he and his men advanced to where Ronsard’s dauntless forces labored valiantly, though sorely beset. Many brave knights had fallen as their bodies felt the fatal sting of a blade thrust into some crease in their protection. By the time Selric reached the place only one remained upon his steed, his reddened mace dripping with the gore of his luckless opponents. He saluted his king and his fallen brothers and turned once more to the havoc.

Little by little the superior numbers of Jaspin’s troops and Nimrood’s black Legion wore down the stout defenders. The cruel end approaching swiftly, King Selric signaled the remains of his tattered army to circle and form a wall of shields to stay the destroyer’s hand as long as possible.

Theido, having regained a horse, led his cohort wading through the tangle in an effort to join Selric, who stood within the circle of the shields next to Alinea. “Fight on!” he urged them forward. “Fight on!”

Suddenly, two of the dark Legion appeared side by side in his path. Theido dodged to the side to avoid them, but too late. A blade flicked out and caught him a raking blow on the arm. A deep gash opened up and his sword spun to the ground as Theido felt strength leave his hand.

He spurred his mount and jerked the reins back, causing the horse to rear; the well-schooled animal lashed out with its forelegs. But the sable knights ducked aside. A blade flashed; Theido threw himself upon the horse’s neck and heard the swish of the sword as it chopped the empty air where his head had been only an instant before.

Theido desperately searched the ground for a weapon, throwing his buckler over his head to protect him. A blow struck the small shield, nearly wrenching it from his grasp. Another hit home, rending the metal in two. Another blow and the buckler would be useless protection. Theido reeled in the saddle.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a curious sight. The sable knight to his left raised his sword above his head to deliver the killing stroke. But as the black hand began the downward arc, the arm suddenly went askew, careening off like a branch struck from a tree. An axe had severed it completely. Bloodlessly.

He heard a whoop and saw Trenn’s blustery face beaming back at him. The next thing he knew the axe had been thrust into his hand.

The black rider on his right, heedless of his comrade’s plight, came on with whistling mace. Once, twice the mace battered into Theido’s poor shield. The third time it struck; the mace bit through the metal and snagged the buckler away. Theido let it fly. In the moment of confusion while the fouled mace hung down with the weight of the crumpled buckler, Theido swung the axe up, and with a mighty heave flung it into the foul knight’s breastplate.

The war axe bit deep, cleaving the armor and neatly burying its head deep in the knight’s chest. No cry of pain came forth, no sign of weakening. Theido could not believe his eyes-an ordinary man would have dropped like a stone.

But the blow did have effect, for Theido was able to spring away as the black creature tugged at the axe sucking out of its chest.

Now Prince Jaspin’s army began to crush Selric’s dwindling numbers as they staunchly stood their ground. Again the courageous king rallied his men, but strength flagged and still the enemy came on.

“I fear it is the end,” said Selric when Ronsard and Theido, abandoning their horses, came to stand beside the valiant warlord.

“We have fought a good fight,” said Ronsard. “I am not shamed to die this way.”

“Nor I,” replied Theido. He gripped the hands of his friends as the foe opened a breach in the wall of shields. “To the death!” he shouted.

At that moment an uncanny sound reached the battered comrades’ ears: the sound of hearty voices lifted in song. Then someone cried out, “It is the Dragon King!”

The words struck their hearts like living sparks. Could it be true?

“I see him,” someone called. “The Dragon King comes with his army!”

All at once a shout went up. “The Dragon King lives! He has returned!” Then they heard the song streaming forth: