Taken by surprise from the rear, the enemy let out a ferocious war cry that struck the Persians with terror. With Teymour the Lame in command, the enemy advanced to music that set the alternate canter-walk-canter pace for the army behind. Mongols rode using the long stirrups, enabling the hard-riding bowmen to stand for better aim with their arrows.

Turbans flapping behind them, Arabs followed on horseback amid their continuous ululating battle cries.

Guttural snores originated from the belly of the creatures, reverberated in their masks, rising into a grating screech.

The Shah loomed at the head of his center phalanx. Although he had prepared for this moment, his eyes and lungs stung. He heard war cries; saw fierce faces, strong bodies, taut arrows. He sent a prayer to Allah, spirits of other worlds, powers of black magic, and to Raven. She was the single most valuable product of his life. He must live to savor the culmination of his toil.

He slapped his horse into a gallop and lunged headlong into the heart of the enemy, his men in close pursuit.

Amid whooshing winds, a myriad of fluttering wings darkened the valley. Flight after flight of arrows overlapped, assaulting the center column of the Persians.

The center column gave way before the best of the enemy, who, according to their custom, gathered heaviest in the center. Once the enemy had concentrated their force on the nucleus of the Shah’s army, his side columns attacked with a sudden enveloping movement. A massive howl rose as the enemy felt itself being crushed from the flanks.

Excitement razing fear, Gold Dust grew bold. She deserved to ride in the open and observe their strategy unfold, to share in the credit. General Darius had not left her side. Soon he must. He was in charge of the Machine and time was of the essence.

The general glanced at the favorite, restless on her saddle, the reins coiling and uncoiling around her fingers, her boots tapping against her horse. Twenty guards surrounded her, but he did not dare leave. Her body quivered like an arrow strung to the limit and poised for release. “My lady, you’ve worked hard to assure our victory. One wrong move, one distraction, and we’re doomed. Please stay under protection until my return.”

Gold Dust relaxed her posture and bowed her head in obedience.

General Darius’s horse galloped toward the giant war machine looming next to a deep underground abyss. Through holes at the sides of a crater, a constant draft flamed a roaring fire. A pile of stones scorched over the blaze. The general bent down and brought his palm close to the stones, feeling their heat. He raised his lance and with all his might cried, “Ya’Allah!”

A massive wooden ladle, contained with ropes and pulleys, creaked, slipped under the pile, loading a mound of scalding stones.

The general brought his lance down.