Si'Wren stood as one frozen, staring down at the dead giant, until she
heard several of the archers yell in unison and she turned her head
just in time to see a final charge upon the Emperor's tent. Across the
camp, Si'Wren gasped at the sight of Borla's crumpled black form being
trampled under the hooves of the enemy's rampaging horse soldiers.
Emperor Euphrates' foot soldiers were fleeing for their lives as the
mounted foe chased them down and shot them in their backs or cut them
mercilessly to ribbons with their bronze swords.
The archer standing beside Si'Wren nocked another arrow, drew, and
fired high. Si'Wren watched his arrow sail forth and come down in the
midst of the enemy, to penetrate the face of an upraised wicker shield
and embed itself in the chest of a raider. The enemy soldier staggered
backwards, fighting to maintain his balance with the arrow in his gut.
But too much else was happening for Si'Wren to watch the enemy soldier
any further, and she searched wildly for any sign of resistance in the
Emperor's men but could not find such.
Suddenly her upturned eyes spied an incoming flight of arrows, and she
had barely time to blink before they began raining down. The arrows'
whistling sounds filled the air, followed by the sounds of impacts and
screams of the fallen all around her.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377