“No sense at all in your head, boy. But a fine man. As fine as your father. You should have the time to grow. Well. My brave soldiers, this is where we die. Among Ashwheat and on our lands!”

She planted her feet on the ground and drew her mace. The sixty-odd [Warriors] cheered her name.

“House Ladel! The Duchess!”

“The Kingdom of Shade! Afiele and glory!”

The Duchess Grishen grinned as she saw the giant lumbering through the wheat towards them. The Ghouls were already advancing. One leapt out of the midnight wheat at her; she brought her mace down and crushed its skull.

“Wait…wait! Now! I will see that monstrosity burn! Light the torches!”

The [Necromancer] saw the first bloom of fire. He whirled.

“What? Turn back!”

He shouted. Too late. The first woman tossed the flaming torch she had lit into the Ashwheat field. More of Duchess Grishen’s [Warriors] did the same.

They did not run. The [Duchess] lit her own flaming brand, and she touched it to the wheat. The Zombie Giant was too far into the fields. The spread-out warriors were igniting the crop.

“Burn in Rhir’s hell.”

The [Duchess] saw the giant trying to turn. Her warriors assailed it, slowing it by hacking at the legs just as Lantal had done. The fires licked up and the [Duchess] felt the heat growing. She raised her mace, laughing wildly. The [Necromancer] saw the Zombie Giant and a third of his army struggling to flee before they went up in flames. He cried out.

“No!”

And a drop of water struck the Duchess on the nose. Grishen blinked. She looked up.

“What the—”

Another drop struck her torch, making it sizzle. The [Duchess] swore.

“Not now. Of all the times to—”

The skies opened up. A sudden shower burst from Noelictus’ dreary, grey overhead. Just…chance. The burgeoning fires went out.

The [Necromancer] breathed. He laughed, hysterically. With relief. Some chance rain! Fate was on his side!

“Kill them!”

He pointed into the fields. The undead reversed their flight. The Zombie Giant kept lumbering away, though, just in case. It moved towards Seraphel’s army and the people of Afiele advanced again.

Grishen stared at the fleeing giant as her warriors circled her. The plan had failed. She let the torch fall to the ground and looked up bitterly.

“Damned rain.”

The fires died as the [Necromancer] laughed and his minions advanced. He waited for them as the giant loomed overhead, drawing closer.

Culin of House Afiele gazed ahead. Seraphel saw him shaking and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Stand with me, Lord Culin. We must stand. And see our people’s bravery to the end, musn’t we?”

He looked up at her. Culin’s lips moved.

“I—I wish I was stronger. I could have saved her. And Father and Mother and…”

The [Princess] closed her eyes.