Erak cut his way through to the Oberjarl, winning a brief respite as the Temujai fell back from the two huge warriors. Ragnak looked up, recognized him and showed his teeth in a triumphant, savage grin.

"We're destroying them, Erak!" he yelled, his eyes still wild. Erak grabbed him by the arm, shaking him to make him focus his attention.

"I'm bringing in the left flank!" he yelled, and the Oberjarl smiled and shrugged.

"Good! Let them have some fun too!" he bellowed. Erak pointed to the battle raging on the seaward side.

"The right wing is in trouble. They've broken through. The Ranger needs help there."

It seemed odd to be giving orders to his supreme commander. But then he realized Ragnak was incapable of directing the flank attack in this state. He was good for only one thing-a devastating, crushing attack on any enemy who stood in his way.

Now, as he heard Erak's words, Ragnak nodded repeatedly.

"That sarcastic little know-all needs help, does he? Then I'm his man!"

And with a roar, he charged off after Halt, followed by his retinue of a dozen axmen.

Erak breathed a quick prayer to the Vallas. A dozen men might not be a lot, but with Ragnak in this near-berserk mode, it could be enough. Then he shoved the troubles of the right flank to the back of his mind and began yelling for a messenger. The right flank would have to look after itself for a few more minutes. Right now, he needed the left flank to hit the enemy from the side.

H ORACE SENSED THE PRESENCE OF SOMEONE DIRECTLY BEHIND him and pivoted rapidly, his sword swinging back, ready to cut side-handed. Seeing the slightly built form of his friend there, grimly engaging a Temujai swordsman with his two knives, he widened his stroke and laid open the Tem'uj's forehead with the point of his sword. The trooper staggered away, hands to his face, sinking to his knees.

"What do you think you're up to?" Horace yelled, in between parrying another attack from the front.

"I'm watching your back," Will told him, as he blocked a thrust from another Tem'uj trying to take Horace from the rear.

"Well, next time let me know," Horace said, grunting as he sidestepped a lance and hammered the hilt of his sword into its surprised owner's skull. "I nearly cut you in half just then!"

"There won't be a next time," Will replied. "I'm not enjoying myself here."

Horace flicked a rapid glance over his shoulder. Will was using the Ranger's double-knife defense to parry and block the Tem'uj's saber. But it wasn't a form of fighting he was particularly skilled in. Besides, it had been over a year since he and Horace had practiced the moves in the hills of Celtica. The Temujai swordsman was having the better of the exchange and in that quick glance, Horace had seen blood seeping through the left arm of Will's shirt.

"When I tell you, drop to your knees," Horace said.

"Fine," Will replied grimly. "I may even do it before you give the word."

In spite of himself, Horace grinned. Then, as he drove two attackers back, he called over his shoulder: "Now!"

He sensed that Will had dropped to the ground and, flicking the sword into a reversed grip, he thrust backward and heard a startled cry.

"You all right?" he called, reversing the sword again and deflecting that persistent lance once more. For a moment, there was no answer, and he felt a sudden jolt of fear that he had just stabbed his friend. Then Will answered him.

"Very impressive. Where did you learn that?"

"Made it up just now," Horace said, then grunted in satisfaction as the lancer stepped a little too close and took the point of his sword in the shoulder. As the man sank to the ground, Horace withdrew the sword, flicking it into a whirling overhand cut at another Tem'uj. The cavalryman's thick felt helmet saved his life as the sword crashed down on it. But there was still enough force in the blow to knock him to his knees, concussed and cross-eyed.

For a moment, they had a brief respite. Horace stepped back and studied his friend.

"Is that arm troubling you?" He nodded toward the widening seep of blood on Will's sleeve. Looking down, Will seemed to notice it for the first time.

"I didn't even feel it," he said in some surprise. Horace allowed himself a grim smile.

"You will later," he told him. Will shook his head doubtfully.

"If there is a later," he said. Then, from the lines behind them, they heard the thrum of bowstrings and the hissing flight of another volley. They looked at one another in amazement.

"It's Evanlyn," said Will. "She's still got them firing!"

Horace gestured to the swarming Temujai, surrounding the thin line of defenders who were keeping them out of the archer's redoubt.

"She won't for much longer," he said. The Skandian line was already beginning to buckle. "Come on! Watch my back and yell if you get in trouble." And with that, he bounded down the slope, his sword rising and falling as he drove his attack into the rear of the Temujai. Startled at the ferocity of his assault, they gave ground for a few seconds. Then, seeing that the new assault consisted of only two men-one of them armed only with knives and small enough to be a boy-they rallied and drove forward again.

Horace fought grimly, gathering the few remaining defenders around him. But the enemy numbers were beginning to tell and now individual Temujai were bypassing the small knot of defenders and dropping into the trench itself, where the archers were still sending their volleys into the main Temujai force.

The two boys heard Evanlyn's voice raised in urgent tones as she directed some of the archers to fire point-blank at the attackers. They knew it was a matter of minutes before the Temujai overran the trench and killed everyone in it.

"Come on!" said Will, leading the way toward the trench. Horace followed close behind him.

A Temujai warrior barred his way and he struck at the man with his saxe knife, feeling the blow jar all the way up his arm as it struck home. A warning cry from Horace alerted him to danger and he turned just in time to block a savage saber cut with his crossed knives. Then Horace was by his side, slashing at the man who had attacked him, and the three others with him. The two friends fought side by side, but there were too many of the Temujai. Will's heart sank as he realized that they were not going to reach the trench in time. He could see Evanlyn, not twenty meters away, with a group of archers around her, facing a still larger group of Temujai as they advanced up the trench-moving slowly, held back only by the threat of the bows.

"Look out, Will!" It was Horace again, and once more they were fighting for their lives as more of the Temujai swarmed toward them.

Nit'zak led a party of men into the trenches that had sheltered the Skandian archers. His other men could take care of the two young warriors who had counterattacked so effectively. His task was to silence the archers once and for all.

His men poured into the trench behind him, striking out at the unarmored, virtually unarmed bowmen. They retreated down the line of the earthworks, some of them scrambling up and over and running to the rear. Grimly, Nit'zak followed until, rounding an angle in the trench, he stopped in surprise.

There was a young girl facing him, a long dagger in her hand and a look of total defiance in her eyes. The remaining archers gathered protectively around her. Then, on her command, they brought their bows up to the present position.

The two groups faced each other. There were at least ten bows aimed at him, Nit'zak saw-at a range of barely ten meters. If the girl gave the order, there was no way the archers could miss. Yet, once that first volley was released, the girl and her archers would be helpless.