Arlen got up to Lynde just as she began her speech. She still looked nervous, but behind her was Artsanna, standing tall and noble on the wall. Occasionally she looked to Artsanna and seemed calmed by her presence. Arlen certainly hoped she was calming or else she would not be able to make her speech.

It was almost dawn and the sky was a dark shade of blue. It was lightening though, and it would soon be daybreak. She would have to make her speech quickly if she wanted to do it before they moved out.

As she began her speech her voice changed into something more powerful. Her tone almost made her sound like Artsanna. "Men of Petrøvya, hear what I say!"

As the men turned to her atop the wall she continued. "The Empire thinks themselves wiser than the men of Surda, and worthy of making decisions that Surdans should make. They think themselves greater than us! Well they are wrong, and today we shall prove it!

"In that camp are soldiers loyal only to themselves and their profits. But we are loyal to something greater. We are loyal to freedom! We are loyal to love! We are loyal to good. And what are they loyal too? They are loyal to death! Let us rebel against tyranny and rebel against death for Surda!"

"FOR SURDA!" roared the soldiers.

A man on the wall looking to the east called out, "I can see the sun!"

Then from below, atop a horse Lord Cathair called out, "Open the gate!" Men began to crank open the gate, and when they were done Lord Cathair shouted "CHARGE!" Then the cavalry began to thunder through the gate followed by the spearmen. They rode towards the Empire's camp and to glory.

As they charged Arlen turned to Lynde who was rather shaken. "I'm surprised," he said. "You were very… well spoken."

"Well that was… Artsanna," Lynde replied. Arlen looked suspiciously at her then at Artsanna and then back again. "I let her speak through me."

She was confused, so I helped her, Artsanna said. I simply put her thoughts into words.

"Well, you gave me chills," Arlen said.

Artsanna seemingly smiled. Thank you.

From the Empire's camp came a crash that drew Arlen's attention. The cavalry's spears met the Empire's soldiers head on, and the sound of battle came from the camp. So it had begun.

Arlen couldn't see much of the battle, but it did go mostly to plan. The bulk of Petrøvya's forces kept the Empire's men occupied while the cavalry did hit-and-run attacks on the northern flank. Soon the Empire's forces to the south swung towards the spearmen like a door, and the fighting intensified. It almost looked like Petrøvya's men were done for when they received aid.

The men Lord Cathair had sent away formed up on a hill to the southwest of the city. For a moment Arlen thought they would charge, but instead their archers fired arrows at the Empire's soldiers. The forces on the hill had formed a wall of shields and spears stood below the archer, but also between them and the Empire's men. It was a reasonable formation for their men to take up.

The men on the hill got attention, and several soldiers went after the men. The hill was steep though, and so the archers could pick off the soldiers as the climbed up. While some arrows were shot up the hill, any man who fell was avenged by a storm of arrows from his comrades. They were not unreachable, but those soldiers who did climb the hill high enough were skewered by spears for their effort. While Arlen would not call them invincible, they were certainly unbreakable.

The battle rage on for hours. Eventually the men on the hill ran out of arrows and charged the Empire's soldiers. The cavalry eventually broke off from the northern flank and had to assist in fighting on the southern flank. It was almost noon and both sides had taken heavy losses when the Empire retreated.

The Surdan forces let them go and headed back for Petrøvya. When they returned they were greeted with thunderous applause. Arlen was with them in cheering for they had demonstrated the same bravery and skill he believed his father and grandfather to have had. He was so excited that he was startled when Artsanna breathed fire into the sky, though all things considered it was probably in celebration. They had won.

But the victory came with a cost and part of that cost was the wounded. Men with makeshift bandages wrapped around their wounds, supported by their comrades came into the city—those of them who could walk anyway. Some were treated right there by the gate while others were sent to the barracks nearby. In either case, healers with skill in either herbs or magic treated the returning heroes. Arlen could not cheer when he looked upon them out of respect.

"We should go to the barracks," Lynde said. Arlen turned to her. She had been rather quiet throughout the battle, so it was strange to hear her speak. "I can help heal them."

While he would've pointed out that she was not the best healer, she was better than no healer. Besides that was Artsanna with her great amount of energy. Lynde had once explained to him that Artsanna could give Lynde energy to do magic with, though he had observed something to that effect already. He couldn't refuse her so they went.

The barracks they chose was full of healers, visitors, and of course the wounded. Lynde went to many of them, using magic to heal their wounds. Arlen made sure to keep an eye on her in case the assassin chose now to strike. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword as they went through the barracks.

As Lynde finished healing one of the men and stood to go to another he jumped up and put knife to her throat. Arlen drew his sword, ready to cut the man down, but he was keeping Lynde between them. He had a crazed look in his eyes, but Arlen was more concerned for Lynde. She looked terribly afraid and her eyes pleaded for her to be let go. It was then the man spoke. "Stay back or I kill the woman!"

"Kill her and you won't get out of here alive," Arlen said.

"Well as long as you stay back we won't have a problem then," the man replied. Despite his assurance Arlen kept his sword up. He wasn't in the business of trusting crazed men with knives and he wasn't about to start now. "I only want to be heard, you see, because there's something you need to know."

"Then speak up." Arlen turned to see the speaker was Lord Cathair. His arm had been bandaged as had his neck as well. Next to him one of the healers—with a concerned look on his face—stood. "If you're going to speak, speak," Cathair said.

The crazed man did so. "I didn't want this war. I've never thought one way or another about magicians or the Empire or anything. Sure I was against us joining at first, but when I found there was no just about difference between them, I got used to it. I've never known a magician, and never heard of one who didn't go with a smile on his lips. The way I see it, there's no point to this fighting except your revenge! While you can go ahead and take it, leave the rest of us out of it! Leave Surda out of your revenge!"

"We will," Lynde said with tears in her eyes. "Just please let me go."

"No, not until I have King Orrin down here, in person, saying that he'll leave us alone!" the man said.

Lord Cathair frowned. "If that's the way it is then I say to you: atra eka hávr du knifr." The knife flew from the man's hand and into Lord Cathair's. He then said, "Also, ganga abtr, gëuloth hugin." With Cathair's words the man flew from Lynde into the wall. Now free Lynde ran behind Arlen, afraid of the now unconscious man.

Arlen had other concerns though. "You're a magician?" he said to Lord Cathair.

"Yes," he replied. "Now you know that it is not only my loyalty to King Orrin that I do this." Seemingly conscious of the many eyes on him he said, "I am Lord of Petrøvya first and a magician last. I only use my magic in dire circumstances—when my life or another's life is threatened—and hope that my followers are kind enough not to tell the Empire of this."

Arlen nodded. "I certainly won't tell."