In the centre Rogan would command the men he had trained in Ralanast, along with the multitude of Halrana who had pledged to fight by his side since the liberation of Halaran. With them were the three Halrana colossi, and the animator Luca Angelo would control the largest of them all in front.

By Rogan's side were the last four bladesingers. These were men he had trained and led, in a brotherhood that had once consisted of more than seventy, yet whose numbers could now, at the war's end, be counted on one hand.

The call to arms had barely finished when Rogan ordered the signal to advance. Even mixed up as they were, the men ran forward together, tight and controlled. The soldiers in green and brown, blue and tan poured down the hillside, the ground trembling under the strides of the colossi. As the enemy drew back to reform, the Hazarans rode away to regroup, then joined the great mass of marching men, scimitars waving above their heads as they cheered wildly.

"The revenants are pulling back, leaving just the templars and the Tingarans," one of the bladesingers shouted above the din.

"Some of the legionnaires are trying to close the gate," another yelled.

"We need speed!" Rogan cried. "Attack!"

The cry was taken up by the men around him, passed to those further away, until seventy thousand soldiers were shouting with one voice.

"Attack!"

Ahead of Rogan the three colossi were the first to hit the gates. All three pushed against the closing gate on the left, while the ironmen under Beorn's control hit the right-hand gate. Inexorably the gates' halting motion ceased, and then with a mighty crash they were once more pushed wide.

Rogan was the first man through the portals of Seranthia, but once he was through he stopped, remembering Amelia's words, knowing he was a young man no longer. The soldiers passed him on both sides, pouring through the gates like a rushing river, unstoppable and inexorable. This was their moment. Let them go first.

Then he realised that he hadn't been the first man through after all. A warrior in the green of a bladesinger slumped against a wall, just inside the gate. A woman in a red robe leaned against him, and beside them both was a dark-skinned warrior in loose black clothing with a yellow sash.

Rogan walked over and grinned at Bartolo. "Looks like you beat me inside the city."

Bartolo opened an eye, the other so encrusted with blood it stayed shut. "Looks like we did, Blademaster."

The Hazaran warrior coughed, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "I would say we all came in together. Thank you, Marshal. You saved the lives of many of my people."

"You got the gates open," Rogan said. "I would think that makes us equal."

"I thought you were dead, you know," Bartolo said.

"I keep hearing that," said Rogan. "Have you heard from Miro?"