A Vin Thalun ran at them as they reached the open gateway. Cywen put a knife through his eye, dropping him in a twitching pile. She paused to retrieve her knife, then ran through the entrance, colliding with Brina’s back.

Then she saw why the healer had stopped at the top of the stairs that led down into Drassil’s great hall, staring down into the enormous chamber, the sight almost breaking her heart.

The hall stank like a slaughterhouse, the dead and dying everywhere, all manner of noise filling the air, battle-cries, death cries, men and women screaming, mewling or weeping with pain, the clash and grate of iron on iron, giants bellowing defiance, the Kadoshim’s ululating screeches.

The trapdoor that the enemy had emerged from was abandoned, the ring of Drassil’s warriors broken, reduced to knotted islands in a sea of the enemy. And marching through the middle was the shield wall of Tenebral’s eagle-guard, thousands strong, pushing through the surge and press of battle with irresistible force.

Veradis. Is he down there?

Even as Cywen stood and stared, horns rang out from the shield wall, and before her eyes it split, not in panic, but in organized motion, parting to form new, smaller squares that branched off into a sweeping arc, systematically clearing the battle before them.

‘This is over,’ Brina said beside her.

The words still in the air Cywen heard a great roar from the far side of the chamber, saw the Benothi giants, felt a flare of hope, but that was instantly dashed as she saw a handful of them retreating, carrying a slumped form between them, silver hair hanging and matted with blood.

Balur One-Eye is fallen.

‘Aye,’ Cywen grunted.

Elsewhere she saw warriors of Drassil starting to break and run, here and there a more organized retreat – Wulf and his axe-men had joined with Javed’s pit-fighters and were disappearing around the curve of the great tree’s trunk; closer to her a hundred or so red-cloaked warriors were retreating slowly, a forest of long spears holding back the press of the enemy.

‘We need to find Ban and get out of here.’

‘Where do we go?’ Cywen mumbled, the shock of defeat washing through her like a poison, murdering her will, draining her spirit.

It cannot be.

‘There,’ Brina said, pointing with her spear.