Led by Sword Eradimnie, they emerged on their black steeds, heavy destriers bred for battle, and more powerful than the horses Magister Rummage knew. They had to be to carry the weight of all that bright iron. The Knights were armored head to foot, from helms and visors to stirrups. They carried swords keen enough to cut a man in half. And they bore lances, long shafts of ironwood with blunted tips to punch rather than pierce.

They came out, not into sunlight, but into the dense gloom of the Repository’s shadow. Nevertheless their armor seemed to shine with its own radiance as if they were incarnations of strength. Their air of pride as they gathered showed an absolute readiness, the assurance of long training and many victories.

With Sword Eradimnie at their point, they formed a tight wedge. Cantering at first, then stretching into a full gallop, they descended the gradual slope to meet the Great God’s cavalry. The hooves of their mounts and the flexing of their armor made a sound like swords beating on shields.

The shock as they met the cavalry was appalling. For Magister Rummage, it was also wonderful. The beasts of the enemy were larger, heavier, presumably stronger. They could do cruel harm with their tusks. But they had not been trained like the destriers. Sword Eradimnie drove among them like iron lightning, parting them on both sides. And on both sides, her comrades struck. In an instant, the front of the cavalry became chaos.

Beasts were forced, screaming, over the rim of the road. They pitched their riders headlong down the rock-clenched slope. On the other side, they tried to scramble upward; but their footing betrayed them, and they toppled. Cavalrymen fell and were trampled by squalling beasts and battle-bred steeds.

Following her spear, Sword Eradimnie forced her way down the throat of the cavalry. Her comrades thrust aside or cut down every beast and rider that avoided her. Still, the sheer numbers of her foes slowed her. In turn, they slowed the other Knights.

An unlucky hit broke Eradimnie’s lance. It burst into splinters in her hand. Without pausing, she snatched out her longsword. Nevertheless the loss of her lance slowed her more. Without it, she had to hack at her foes one by one. Despite her speed and strength, she could not continue her charge.

Another lance snapped. Drawing their blades, the Knights followed at their leader’s back.

A beast gored the belly of a destrier. Squealing, the horse stumbled away, tossed its rider. The Knight went over the drop. Bouncing from boulder to boulder, his armor rang like a load of anvils.

Beasts and cavalrymen fell with him, dragged off the road by his plunge. Their bodies made a mass of blood and iron, tusks and blades.