In front of me, Surtr had reached the army. He wheeled the horse around, the animal’s hooves kicking up clumps of grass and dirt. The king brandished his sword, threw back his head and yelled. He looked savage, steam curling off him wherever the snow fell on his bare skin, his eyes wide with blood rage,
“For Muspellheim!”
The army took up the cry, surging forward. Sigurd needed no commanding, he spun around and charged back the way we’d just come, and I found myself barreling toward the frost army, the pounding of hooves behind me. My army charging after me, the rebels close behind.
Ahead of us the frost army moved as one, their horses hurtling forward. My blood was like ice water as the distance closed between us. The katana made a metallic slicing sound as I drew it from the scabbard, clutching the grip tightly. What would happen when we collided?
Closer and closer. I could see the whites of the horses’ eyes, see the sunlight reflected off the snow glimmer on the curve of their helmets, the length of their swords. War cries filled the air over the thunder of hooves. They were hurtling at me, mouths open, screaming, about to devour me.
To keep the fear at bay I screamed back, opening my mouth to holler at the top of my lungs,my voice shaky at first and then building into a full on war cry that echoed my enemy. It seemed to spur Sigurd on, and he put on a burst of speed. Adrenalin pumped through me as we closed the gap. Then it was nothing but a clash of silver and brown as the armies collided, smashing together with the force of a freight train. It wasn’t what I had expected. I couldn’t pick out one rider and swing for him, everything was a chaotic mess, a terrifying blur of motion. The frost soldier in front of me was thrown off his horse, and before he could get up Sigurd charged over him. I didn’t have time to see what had become of him, because soldiers were coming at me, leaning from their horses, swinging swords and clubs.
Eyes wide, I blocked a heavy blow from a sword. Where was Amora right now? I'd been so sure she’d take over and save me from being killed! But I was fully in charge of myself, there was no guiding force taking over my body, no extra knowledge that dictated my movements. Panic shot through me. Had she abandoned me to die? Had the memories dissolved and left me on my own?
Everyone was coming at me at once, and my rebels began to form a ring around me, cutting down everyone who came close. Finally I had a moment to clear my head and breath, looking out over the battle.
It was a sea of writhing humanity, horse and man striking at one another, like a murderous tide. It looked like the frost army were trying to press forward, with half their army still stuck behind the pass’ narrow entrance. But we were holding them back pretty well. I spotted Kiera as she rode into the fray. She lifted her arms, casting her cloak off to reveal a brilliant white robe underneath, to my astonishment her skin was glowing. A faint white light seemed to be glimmering over her bare arms and shoulders. She swept her arms at the soldiers charging her, a graceful movement, and the men were thrown back with cries of astonishment and pain.
So she really is a witch.
I smiled, and then turned abruptly as one of my protectors went down with a scream. A frost soldier charged at me, and before I could get my sword up his club struck me in the chest. White spots burst before my eyes, and I could feel my body toppling backwards and sideways. When I hit the ground I struck my head, the helmet clanking on a rock, and more stars burst. I couldn’t breathe. Sigurd was a blur of motion above me as he kicked out at my attacker, his hooves connecting with the man's helmet. The ground was so hard under my back. Fear froze me down to my bones. Something must be broken, something in my chest. I lay still, gasping, watching as another rebel was cut down. The frost army was pressing in on all sides, clearly they intended to take me down as fast as possible.
I shut my eyes and directed my thoughts inward. Amora, I need you.
It was stupid, trying to talk to what amounted to a set of memories. But I was desperate. She had to surface and help me fight. I couldn’t do this all on my own.
Nothing happened, no memories popped up, nothing took over my body. Another scream, another man fell off his horse. There was a gap in my circle of protection, and the enemy took advantage of it, a horse and soldier barreled past the rebels. He came straight at me, leaning to the side, stretching his sword down to swing at my head.
I still couldn’t get my breath. Couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The sword swung down at me, glittering, light dancing on the surface of the blade, hypnotizing me. Abruptly there was a second blade in front of my face, meeting the first, blocking it just on time. I gasped as the vibration ran through my arms. My katana. Relief filled me, the memories were back. Amora was back.
Once more I moved without thought, springing up as the circle of protection fell, reaching up to block enemy blades, yanking them off their horses. Amora killed without mercy, sliding throats and stabbing torsos. I tried to feel numb. Tried to ignore the warm blood that sprayed in my face. My stomach turned when I tasted it on my lips.
There was no time to be squeamish. It was kill or be killed.
I high, angry screech beside me made me turn to see Sigurd, battling his way over to where I stood, stomping heads under his hooves, kicking soldiers that dared to come after him. Somehow he knew to only strike out at the frost army. I smiled grimly as my horse made his way to my side,
“I knew you were way smarter than average,” I told him.
Sigurd’s only reply was to lash out at a soldier running towards me, knocking him backwards onto his ass so that he sat there clutching his broken ribs in agony. A flash of blonde hair caught my attention, and I spotted Charlotte over the chaotic mess of people, still on horseback. She was fighting beside Davin, and I could pick out the other girls there too. I watched as Becca smacked a passing soldier in the face with the pommel of her sword. Stacey was on her feet, screaming and running at the man who had lamed her horse, lashing out and sending him stumbling backwards.
“Come on, Sigurd.” I turned and ran towards them, thankful when he followed me, still lashing out with his front and back hooves at anyone who came too close.
The armies had spread out across the field now. You could actually see the field in between us, instead of being so packed together. I made it a few feet before being accosted by more frost soldiers. It wasn’t a problem though, Amora guided my actions. I lowered my body as a burly soldier ran at me, driving my shoulder into his gut. He wheezed and staggered backward, and I swung my katana around and bashed him in the face with the end of the hilt, wincing at the horrendous crunching sound it made. The man staggered back, clutching at his face as blood gushed from between his hands. I moved past quickly, making for another soldier just behind him who was waving his sword at Sigurd.
“Don’t you touch my horse!” I screamed, slashing at him. He turned on me abruptly, and a sharp pain pierced my arm. I ignored it and lashed out, my sword slicing through his upper arm. He fell back in a spurt of bright red blood, and I jumped backwards, feeling sick. I had just chopped his arm off.
The soldier was on the ground now, screaming, blood coating the brown grass. Should I finish him off? Would that be kinder?
No, he could stop the bleeding and survive, and I doubted he’d be fighting anymore today. Amora’s instincts steered me away, running toward my friends. I could feel warmth soaking into my leather tunic, instinctively I glanced down to see a thin slice out of the fabric on my shoulder and a scarlet patch spreading on the material. It was probably nothing, just a cut. I was fine. I glanced back up in time to see a sword swinging for my head, getting my katana up just in time, heart in my throat.
Another burly frost soldier, this one with a hooked nose and an aggressive square jaw framed by his helm. With a savage grunt he swung at me again. Our swords clashed together, the jolt running through my shoulders and down both arms. This one was strong.
He drove me backwards with a savage grin, and my instincts screamed at me. He was trying to back me up towards another soldier. Our blades ground together, and I slid mine down the length of his and managed to clip his arm. He cried out and danced backwards, and I swung around just as a second soldier was baring down on me, whirling to the right and lashing out with my katana, slicing cleanly through his neck. The soldier stumbled backwards, gurgling and clutching his throat as the blood bubbled up through his fingers. I turned away, stomach protesting. The first man was on the ground with a large bump on his head. Sigurd was standing over him, looking back at me proudly.
“Good work,” I said, “come on.”
We hacked and kicked and slashed our way over to Charlotte. Upon seeing us she gave me a huge smile, “You’re okay!”
“So far,” we had to shout at one another to be heard over the clatter of swords and the screams of the dying.
Davin gave me a grin before turning to bash someone’s head in, “Nice to see you, princess.”
“You too!” I shouted, and whirled around as Sigurd whinnied a warning at me, slashing the outstretched arm of a bloody- faced soldier who had been reaching for me, a dagger clutched his other hand.
I jumped as several limp forms landed beside me with a thud. Kiera was on her feet now, walking forward through the frost army like Moses parting the red sea. Her arms were outstretched, and men were tossed aside like garbage blowing in the wind, arms and legs flailing, screaming in terror.
I shook my head. Now if only I could do that!