Below the north wall of Damu, the sound of Kina footfalls kept coming.
The sounds of battle were shifting, little by little. The orcs' raw, guttural roaring had thinned. The ring of steel against steel had faded. In their place, the sounds of the Kina were filling the void.
Barkh raised his bow again. He drew an arrow and set it to the string.
He looked down to the base of the wall. The space between the wall and the moat—the near bank of the water.
But there were no orcs where his arrow needed to be.
Of the orcs that had crossed the moat, the only survivors were the ones that had crossed back and fled into the trees.
String still drawn, Barkh looked left. A Kina had an orc by the scruff and was hurling it aside. He looked right. Another Kina was in the middle of tearing a Minotaur's arm clean off and flinging it away. He looked farther out. A winged soldier's feather-blade swept across an orc's throat and kept going.
Barkh held the draw for a moment, then slowly eased the string back.
"...There's nothing to shoot at!"
The frustration in his voice was unmistakable.
He filled his lungs again, drew, and took aim.
Farther out. One orc was locked with a Dawi soldier. Barkh drew the string back. And then—a Kina's foot came straight down on top of it. A dull, wet burst. The orc's body crumpled; blood and flesh sprayed outward.
Barkh eased off again.
"...AAAUGH! What the—!"
On the other side, a Minotaur. Big. Axe in hand.
Barkh drew. At that exact moment, Salma's Kina stepped in close, shot an arm out, closed its hand around the Minotaur's head, and drove it straight into the earth.
Barkh slowly lowered his bow.
Mau was standing quietly beside him.
"...Barkh."
"Don't."
"...Okay."
A short silence.
Right—I need to find somewhere the Kina haven't reached yet!
Barkh raised his bow again. This time he aimed farther out. There were still stretches the Kina hadn't swept through. The far end of the bridge spanning the moat. Two orcs tangled together, fighting.
Barkh drew.
The arrow flew and buried itself in one orc's shoulder. The orc staggered.
Mau said:
"Hit."
"A hit isn't enough—I need to finish it!"
Barkh was already pulling the next arrow when one of the Yakra winged soldiers came skimming low over that section. Its feather-blade passed through the staggering orc. The orc went down.
Barkh watched it happen, bow still raised.
"...That was my orc."
"Yeah."
"It was about to go down."
"Yeah. It was."
"My arrow had already done the real work."
Mau looked in the direction the winged soldier had flown.
"What does it matter whose kill it was? Dead's dead either way."
"It matters plenty! I'd been keeping an exact count—twelve orcs, two Minotaurs, right up to this moment! That was supposed to be thirteen! I need those numbers for when I rub it in Bejede's face later!"
Barkh let out a long, hard breath.
"That Muwa is going to count every last drop of blood on his Kina's toes—I guarantee it!"
A short silence followed.
Barkh swept his gaze out over the battlements again. The ground directly below the wall had already been combed through by the Kina. Most of the things still moving out there were Dawi soldiers. The bodies of orcs and Minotaurs lay crushed and broken, scattered across the field.
Barkh reached back for his quiver. His hand stopped before it closed around an arrow.
Mau's hand was quietly making its way toward the quiver. He was pulling spare arrows from a secondary quiver and sliding them, one by one, into Barkh's—without a word, without looking up.
One. Two. Three. While Barkh's eyes were fixed on the far side of the moat, Mau's hand moved in silence. Four. Five.
Without turning around, Barkh said:
"How many arrows do I have left?"
Mau answered, perfectly casual:
"...Plenty."
Barkh looked down at his quiver. It was full.
"Huh? I shot a lot of them—why are there so many?"
"I topped you up earlier."
"What? Hey—didn't you hear what I told the warchief?"
"Hmm? Aw, come on... you didn't mean it."
"I did mean it! That quiver runs out, I go down to the ground—that's the deal, Mau!"
Barkh snapped it at him, then turned back to the battlements.
The far side of the moat. The orc rear. Orcs were swarming out there—the ones who hadn't crossed yet—massed just beyond the reach of the moat's firelight, watching.
Barkh's eyes narrowed.
"There are still plenty of orcs over there."
"That's the other side of the moat. Out of range."
"Hmm? Out of range?"
Barkh picked up the longbow. It stood taller than his own shoulder.
He drew. Slowly. Deep. Past his ear, and then past that. He breathed out halfway and stopped. His whole body became part of the bow—shoulders opening wide, the limbs of the bow bending toward each other.
Mau watched from beside him, and then said:
"...You're not serious."
Barkh's eyes locked onto a single point. Across the moat, deep in the orc mass, there was one—bigger than the rest, the look of a commander about him.
That orc was pointing toward the wall and bellowing. Giving orders, by the look of it.
"You see that, Mau—that's the kind of orc I like."
Barkh murmured.
"The loud ones. The ones who shout and carry on."
Fsshhk!
The arrow flew. From the wall, over the moat, all the way to the far bank.
The orc's bellowing cut off.
Mau watched that spot for a moment.
"...Hit?"
"Obviously."
Barkh said, pulling another arrow. Mau kept his gaze on the spot. The orcs around the fallen one were scattering.
"Barkh... do you have any idea how far that was?"
"No. I just aim like I'm going to hit it."
"Archers don't usually reach that kind of—"
"They can't?"
Mau was quiet for a moment.
And then—
A concussive boom rolled across from the far side of the moat.
KRAAANG!!
The sound of something enormous dropping onto the earth.
Barkh already had the next arrow to the string. On the far bank, an orc was running.
Barkh drew to his limit. And released.
The arrow flew.
KRAAANG!!
Bejede's Kina cleared the moat and landed—one foot driving forward as it hit the ground. The enormous body of the Kina crossed into the line of the arrow's flight.
Tink!
The arrow struck the Kina's forearm plate and spun away into the air.
Barkh stared.
A beat of silence.
"KRAAAAUGH!!"
Barkh slammed both palms down on the merlon.
"Bejede!! Why are you crossing the moat! Where did you even come from, charging out of nowhere like that—!!"
Mau stood beside him, quietly watching the far bank. Bejede's Kina was advancing on the orcs, the iron ball at the end of its chain already spinning in wide, steady circles. Behind it, the other Kina cleared the moat one by one and touched down onto the open ground.
"Whoa..."
Mau said quietly.
"That big Kina... it jumped the moat, Barkh. Did you see that?"
Barkh exhaled hard through his nose.
"I saw it."
"It really just jumped that whole distance?"
"I said i saw it."
"You see how the ground caved in where it landed? With that much weight behind it, and it still jumped—"
"Mau."
"Yeah?"
"That's not the point right now!"
Mau turned and looked at his brother. Barkh's eyes were fixed across the moat. Orcs were running. The Kina were following. Laughter carried from somewhere out in the distance—Bejede's laugh. The chain of the Kina cut across the air. Orcs went down in the wake of it.
Barkh listened to that sound.
The corners of his eyes drew slowly, quietly tight.
Barkh reached back for his quiver. His hand was almost on an arrow—then stopped.
His hand came slowly back down off the quiver.
He lowered his bow without a word.
Mau quietly let out the breath he'd been holding.
Then Barkh turned around. He looked at Mau.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"You just topped my quiver up again."
Mau said nothing for a moment.
"...When."
"Just now. While I was watching the far bank."
"I said I topped you up earlier."
"That was earlier. You did it just now too."
"I... Barkh, you noticed that?"
"Doesn't have anything to do with noticing."
Barkh looked at Mau and crossed his arms.
"So. You filled it up so I'd stay up here. So I wouldn't go down to the base of the wall."
Mau glanced away for a moment.
"I mean... that's part of it. But also, more arrows means more orcs."
"Mau."
"Yeah."
"Tell me straight. How much did you put in?"
A silence.
"...About two bundles more."
"Why."
"Because you shouldn't go down there."
"I can go."
"No you can't."
"Why not."
Mau pointed down at the base of the wall. Where the Kina were walking.
"The Kina are handling everything down there."
"Exactly—so I should go help."
"Help with what? The Kina have it."
"That's why I need to be doing something!"
Mau let out a short, quiet breath.
"You are doing something."
"Like what."
Mau said:
"You're holding the wall."
Barkh looked at him for a moment, then looked away. He leaned against the merlon, chin in hand. Said nothing.
Mau watched his brother's face from the corner of his eye. Barkh was still looking out over the field. He looked aggrieved.
Below the wall, the sounds continued. The Kina's footfalls. The crash of falling orcs. Smoke rising off the moat caught the firelight and swayed, blood-red.
From somewhere out in the distance, Bejede's laughter rose again.
Barkh listened to it there, arms resting on the merlon.
Said nothing.
Mau stood beside him.
Neither of the two Dawi spoke.
*****
Salma's Kina was driving through the center of the orc formation on the far bank of the moat.
The orcs parted before it. Some fell back. Some raised axes and charged. Those ones stayed beneath the Kina's feet.
Above, the Yakra winged soldiers wheeled through the air. They flew close around the Kina, blades sweeping through any orc trying to slip underneath, skimming low and fast through the mass of bodies, feather-blades trailing across arms and throats as they passed.
Nerum was seated on Salma's Kina's shoulder.
On the broad, jointed face of the Kina's shoulder, Nerum sat with wings folded close. His red cape shifted with the Kina's movements. The bandaging still wound around his wings had not come off. But his gaze was fixed and unmoving—locked on the forest beyond the moat.
Nerum spoke:
"The orcs pushed back from the Sun side sector are regrouping. I believe we need to redirect two Kina in that direction."
Salma answered from inside the Kina:
"Tell Bejede."
"Understood."
Nerum raised his wings and sent the signal in manifested light. Bejede's Kina turned. One of the units following changed direction with it.
Bejede's voice carried back as it faded into the distance:
"There you are, you orc bastards!! I'm coming for you!! Kha-hahaha!!"
From the eastern end of the field, another concussive boom rang out.
Nerum turned back to Salma:
"Warchief. The Star side wall is nearly clear."
"Good."
Salma's voice came back, short and flat.
"The enemy is still heavy on the Moon side wall."
A brief silence. Only the rhythm of the Kina's footfalls continued—the ground shuddering each time a foot came down.
The sounds from all directions were beginning to concentrate in one. The front was tightening.
Salma spoke:
"We move to the Moon side wall."
His voice did not waver.
"But before that—make certain there is not one orc or Minotaur left standing on this wall."
The Kina walked on. The firelight off the moat caught it from below. The sun-crest on the shoulder caught the glow and flared gold.