Knife of Rebellion: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 1

Chapter 39- Marching Drums

The eerie noise of drums plays unseen, like the earth itself has developed a heartbeat. The sound envelopes the canyon, bouncing off the walls and speeding violently towards Sandalone. I beginning to feel as if my heartbeat is nothing more than the sound of death approaching.

"Do not be afraid." Diona suggests helpfully from beside me. She looks imposingly stoic, as usual, as if the massive army closing in on us is nothing more than an everyday breakfast.

I don't bother to respond. Instead, I glance over at Mirabel, who is dressed in battle gear and surrounded by a personal guard. The fact that I can't be trusted to be on that guard leaves a lump in my throat.

Branon catches me looking. Part of me wants to look away, but instead I hold his gaze, silently pleading with him to protect her. He nods, a small movement of recognition. For some reason, it is a large comfort to me.

Our troops are arranged along the outer wall and mid-wall. Catapults sprang up unseen sometime in the night, three of them. How that is possible, I still do not understand, but the power of Sandalone is encouraging.

Not encouraging enough to counteract the growing sound of pounding drums.

Someone from the guard tower above me shouts. The Freezing wind snatches the words away, but I know what they were. Another minute crawls by in the winter winds, drums like the footsteps of war striking fear into my heart. The sound grows closer, less mystical, and the head of the marching column rounds the corner of the wall.

Uniforms of red match the flag flying above them, a black dragon unfurled and ready for battle. I still can't see the drummers, only an endless stream of foot soldiers, followed by cavalry, followed by archers and lancers.

"No catapults?" Diona mocks, "How can they possibly expect to get in here."

I shake my head, not sharing my cousin's confidence. Nadra knows she can't starve us out, so there must me some kind of plan. She seemed entirely confident that we would all be at the mercy of her soldiers before sundown.

And then I see her.

Alaric's golden head appears, riding through the middle of the army. A gleaming silver breastplate covers his thin chest, and a cape of brilliant crimson rippling behind him.And his piercing purple eyes are locked with mine. I can feel Nadra's gaze through the spirit world, her consciousness reaching for mine from below.

Walls cannot stop me, child.

Alaric's hand rises above his head, and suddenly a beacon erupts in the center of the battlefield, one so bright I have to shield my eyes. I feel an arm around me just before the world rumbles and the stone beneath my feet shakes. I open my eyes in time to see twenty men ripping at the wall with their bare hands, all in a concentrated area around the gate.

"Are they mad?" Diona cries as she pulls me off the wall, down to the other side.

"No," I answer, "they're dead."

Summerhunt barrels up the wall to us and pulls me down.

"Summerhunt, I need you to slow them down as much as you can." I instruct.

He disappears towards the gate, pushing through a mass of Garen's rebels.

"Fire. Saints Alive Fire!" Garen is screaming.

"It's not working!" Someone screams back.

"Nadra's protecting them. Her magic can't touch the walls, but it can shield twenty men from mortal arrows." I tell Diona.

She drags me forward, "then stop her."

Just then, the wall next to the gate crumbles, and a man crawls through. His head is immediately lopped off.