He saw that he was about to enter this battle whether he wanted to or not. He slipped Jael’s banner into the leather cup on his saddle that usually held his spear, drew his sword and kicked his horse on, choosing a warrior who looked like one out of Gramm’s hold.

Someone normal to fight.

His horse’s shoulder ploughed into the man, sending him reeling, Ulfilas’ sword rising and falling, crunching into the warrior’s helm, dropping him instantly.

He kicked his horse on, swinging left and right with his blade, leaving a wake of bloody wounds and dying men. He started to think that they could still win this battle, though all was chaos and blood around him. It was almost impossible to tell how the battle was faring. He hacked at a spear jabbing at him, snapped the shaft, stabbed into the face of the warrior wielding it, heard a scream, saw the man go down, and dug his heels into his horse.

For a moment there was a lull around him. To his left he saw Corban, still upon his horse, hacking at men of Isiltir with maniacal energy; close to him there was a flash of white fur and fangs, and about the young warrior a knot of fighters gathered to protect him – a huge man with a war-hammer, a red-haired woman with wolven claws like Corban’s, dripping with gore, and one of the Jehar mounted and trailing arcs of blood with his sword – he looked remarkably like the warrior who had unhorsed Ulfilas at Gramm’s hold, only younger and more battle-frenzied.

Not going that way, then.

He yanked upon his reins and suddenly there was one of the Jehar in front of him – one of his Jehar – fighting a silver-haired giant with one eye and a black axe. The Jehar was fast, darting in and cutting at the giant’s leg, eliciting a howl of pain or rage, but then a huge knife smashed into the Jehar’s chest, hurling it from its feet. The injured giant lumbered forwards and swung his axe, taking the Jehar’s head off as it tried to rise, and then there was a screeching shadow-demon materializing in the air right in front of Ulfilas, his horse screaming and rearing. He managed to control his mount, saw another giant striding forwards, smaller, slimmer – female? It’s so hard to tell the difference – but still clearly a giant, two belts criss-crossing her chest with an abundance of those oversized knives sheathed in them. As Ulfilas watched, she bent down and recovered her knife from the chest of the decapitated Jehar and then looked about for a new target.

Her eyes settled upon him.