A horn blast rang out, and all along the line wood and iron thudded together, great rectangular shields overlapping, Riv and her companions pressing tight together as they had been drilled countless times. Riv peered over her iron rim to see Balur One-Eye step out from the crowd, captain of the Ben-Elim’s legion of giants, his battle fame almost larger than his own huge form. He stood a man and a half tall, his white hair bound in a thick warrior braid, moustache knotted with leather, and tattoos of thorn and vine swirling up his thick arms. Wrapped in leather and fur, he strode towards them, gripping a long-hafted war-hammer in his massive fists. More grimfaced giants followed him, striding towards Riv’s shield wall. A worm of fear threaded through her belly at the sight of old One-Eye and she fought the urge to laugh, a wild joy leaping up inside her.

I have dreamed of this for so long, since I was born, it feels. Sixteen summers of wishing I was a warrior of the White-Wings, and now it is so close I can taste it.

‘Ready,’ she called out, her voice trembling with the emotion of this moment, and she tucked her head down and pressed her shoulder firmly into her shield.

Vald grunted unintelligibly as shields from the second row rose up to cover the heads of those in the front row, and then Balur was there, the air whistling as he spun his war-hammer and slammed it against them, wood cracking like a burst of thunder. Riv felt the power of it shudder through the shield wall, a tremor that rippled through wood and iron, flesh and bone, but as far as she could tell no one had fallen and the wall held. A thud from further away, one of Balur’s companions joining the fray, and another, much closer, an explosion that numbed her shield arm and rocked her backwards, feet digging grooves in the turf as she fought to stay upright. Riv blinked sweat from her eyes. Still feeling the vibration of that last blow in her bones, she saw there was a crack running partway down the centre of her shield.

Come on, give the order, Riv thought, her right hand clamped around the hilt of her short-sword, but she knew to draw it early would be to fail this warrior trial.

She snarled a curse and gritted her teeth.

More blows rained upon them, grunts and gasps all about as her companions tried to hold and weather the storm, digging deep. Even having practised this so many times before and knowing that it was not real combat, there was still an edge of fear snaking through them, something different about the way Balur and his giants were pounding at the shield wall, a savagery that Riv had never encountered before. A shield burst into so much kindling somewhere above and to the right, followed by a sharp scream.