פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ
Chapter 14: The Burning RiversDiest Arcanum shouted above the din of battle, "THEY'RE BREAKING. TARGET THE FADES!"
Missiles arched through the air, slamming down among the Trolloc ranks. The leading Fades' luck could not overcome the sheer number of boulders slamming down from above. The rapid death of many of the Horde's leaders threw the shadowspawn ranks into further confusion. The Band's infantry lines switched quickly to offensive, cutting away at the retreating Trollocs. Across the river, the other half of the Band was slicing through the Horde flanks, forcing the panicking shadowspawn towards the river. The arrival of the presumed dead soldiers had momentarily stunned both sides, but the Band had recovered quickly.
Lightning scored from the heavens, stabbing into the ranks of the shadowspawn. So, the Aes Sedai survived, Arcanum reflected, and perhaps Cathon as well.
A small flash of red pierced through the air, the great crimson eagle clawing at the face of a boar-faced Trolloc. The Red Hand closed in from both sides, hemming the shadowspawn into the water, but resistance soon hardened in the Horde. Though they had taken heavy casualties from the surprise flank attack, the shadowspawns still outnumbered the combined Band at least two to one, and with the surviving Fades ruthlessly driving them, they began to fight back. If immediate actions were not taken, the Trollocs would recover enough to devastate the humans, and were already delivering a punishing counter-offensive.
This was the moment Arcanum was waiting for. The surprisingly rapid progress of the initial Trolloc advance had pushed the retreating catapults out of range of the river. The general had been caught off-guard, as he was planning to wait for the last possible time to unleash the surprise Borsy had set up. Until now, he had cursed the lost opportunity. But now, as his catapults advanced over recovered ground, and the majority of the Horde bottled up in the river, it proved to be the tantalizing target for which Arcanum had waited.
"BLOW THE HULKS!" Arcanum bellowed, his voice carrying across the small rising in which the Thunder Legion had set up advance position. The catapults' carriages snapped their load up, arching up and slamming into thick knots of Trollocs in the river. But, their true targets were the buoyant wagons bobbing in the water, which were shattered by the rain of missiles. The splintered hulks soon leaked their glistening load into the river. The witch's brew diffused rapidly across the top of the water, the current stretching the black liquid around the Trolloc Horde.
Streaks of light arched from positions near the front lines, as archers dipped their arrows into the firepots and let fly at the river. Where the hail of glowing arrows touched the water, tongues of flames licked the surface, inferno swelling violently forth. Within seconds, the river was embroiled in a firestorm that swallowed the Horde. Trollocs that broke free were cut down as the humans closed in. Those who did not die to blades were driven to a fiery death. The Trolloc counterassault deteriorated to chaos, as they found disciplined soldiers to the front and an inferno to their back. The Band of Red Hand was merciless, forcing the last Trollocs to their death in the smoking blaze.
With victory nigh, medics swarmed the fields, bringing in the wounded and dying, setting up camp near Arcanum's station. A particular arrival caught Arcanum's eye, a man whose entire skin surface was a mass of fresh burns and glistening blisters.
"Borsy?" The general hurried over to the prone shape, lying on the makeshift cot. The man opened his blood-shot eyes and gazed up at Arcanum. The Thunder Lord knew immediately that the Chief Engineer would not survive his devastating injuries.
Drov Borsy opened his cracked lips slightly, "Killed by my own creation."
This was followed by a soft raspy chuckling noise, as he struggled for breaths against the thick black eschar constricting his chest and neck. Borsy sighed, "Got caught in the collapse of a burning fieldwork. The soldier who dragged me out...should've left me there. Only postponing..."
The engineer's eyes clouded for a second, then refocused, "Afraid I can't make that...design of yours, Diest. Leis Nosi...will take over. He's a good man. I'm glad to see the burning river. It was...beautiful."
Borsy sighed once more, a whisper of breath's end, before descending into final silence.
Arcanum kneeled silently for a moment, then detached the man's tattered and burnt cloak and placed it over the blackened corpse. In a quiet voice unlike his namesake, he murmured, "May you find the way to Manetheren, my friend."
Arcanum stood up and watched the final moments of the battle. The river fire burned hot, consuming the bodies of its victims, its thick, black plume rising into the air. Two red eagles flew around the pillar of smoke, dancing ever upwards. The wall of fire separated the two halves of the Band, but would soon expire.
"Thank you, Caldazar." Arcanum called to the eagles as they disappeared into the cloud. A single red feather floated down, alighting upon Borsy's covered body.
פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ