ECHOES OF THE GREAT SONG by David A. Gemmell

But the last of her hate had vanished as she saw Rael holding the broken body of the wife he loved.

Yes, the Avatars had been evil, and the Great God had punished them. It was not for Mejana to harbour further thoughts of revenge.

Rael had come to her before the last ride. He had stood silently for a moment, then he had offered his hand. She took it. ‘I wish you well,’ he said. ‘You Vagars are now the guardians of the twin cities. You will write the histories. It may be that you cannot speak well of us and our rule, but I urge you to remember the manner of our passing.’

‘You do not have to do this, Rael,’ she said.

He shrugged. ‘I do if we want to win.’

He had turned away then and mounted a huge grey war-horse.

Pulling her cloak tightly about her she transferred her gaze to the distant hills. The Avatars had formed into a fighting wedge, like a great silver spearhead.

Then they charged.

Rael had not looked back once since he left the city. In all his long life, he realized, he had spent too long doing just that, staring back into the past, fighting a vain battle to keep it alive. The city would survive or it would not. It was no longer his duty to guarantee its future.

Sofarita had come to him and told him exactly where the Almec supplies were based, and how strong the defences around them. The chances of the Avatars fighting their way through were slim. But Rael no longer cared. Mirani was dead, his dreams buried with her. If his death could cause the fall of the Almecs it would be a small price to pay.

There was no need now to give orders. Every man riding with him knew the objective, and knew further that this was to be the last ride of the Avatars. No-one spoke, each lost in his own thoughts, remembering families and loved ones.

Rael led his silver-clad riders up the eastern slope. To his left he could see a regiment of Almecs moving to intercept. ‘Fighting wedge!’ he yelled, galloping forward to create the spear point. His riders closed in around and behind him.

‘Forward!’ he bellowed. Pulling down his visor he urged his grey war-horse, Pakal, into a run. Rael’s zhi-bow was in his hands and he sent a bolt flashing into the advancing Almec foot soldiers. They were still just out of range of the fire-clubs and the Avatars unleashed a deadly volley of light bolts into the massed infantry. Scores of men were hurled from their feet. The horses were at full gallop now, the thunder of hooves filling the air. Again and again the zhi-bows loosed their deadly shafts, and a gaping hole showed in the ranks of the Almecs. Yet they did not break. The fire-clubs came up – and thundered. Lead shot smashed into the advancing horsemen. Twelve horses went down, ten more were hit, but kept on running. Rael was leading a charmed life at the point of the wedge as shots hissed by him.

Just behind him Cation’s horse tumbled, throwing the officer to the ground. He rolled to his knees and calmly sent bolt after bolt into the defensive line. A shot took him in the cheekbone, smashing up into his left eye socket and into the brain.

Still the charge continued.

The lead riders struck the line. The Almecs scattered before them. Shots were more sporadic now as the Avatars clove on, shooting as they rode. Rael was hit in the shoulder and hip. He swayed in the saddle, but did not fall. Another murderous volley struck the Avatar left flank, and a score more horses fell.

Rael rode on, shooting to left and right. Beside him now Goray’s horse was shot in the head. As it fell Goray leapt from the saddle, killing four Almecs before they struck him down with swords and daggers.

The Avatars had advanced more than a hundred yards into the mass of the enemy.

Rael cast a swift glance back towards Egaru. The gates were open and Vagar soldiers were streaming out over the flooded fields, followed by a swarming mass of militia men.