The clash had lasted longer than Kaelen thought possible. Hours, maybe. Or only minutes, time had fractured into flashes of steel, screams, and the thundering drum of blood in his ears.
At first, the mercenaries had fought like wolves hemmed into a corner, driving back Malrik’s soldiers through sheer ferocity. The company’s shield wall had held, battered but unbroken. But that had been at dawn, when the mist still clung low over the river valley, and hope seemed like something that might still be grasped.
Now, beneath a sun half-smothered by smoke, hope had fled.
The ground was a churned mess of mud, blood, and broken bodies. The mercenaries’ line sagged and bent beneath each new push of Malrik’s disciplined troops. Kaelen could see the exhaustion written across every face, men and wome
