William nodded and helped Fredric back to his feet before realising the army was going to leave behind some of the fallen soldiers’ shields and spears. “Go with the others, I’ll catch up in a minute,” he told Fredric.

  His squire looked confused but followed the retreating army, while Will moved as fast as he could around the battlefield, collecting any useful weapons and shields.

  He also collected goblin and worg corpses to deny the horde more food. “Hmm. They don’t feel the same as people.” The awful feeling he’d been getting when storing human corpses was absent for goblins and worgs. Having no answers, he continued collecting the dead. By the time he’d finished, he’d collected almost two dozen weapons and over two hundred of the dead creatures.

  William caught up with the defenders as they trudged after the column, limping and bloodstained, but alive. The fires of the battlefield faded behind them as the battered army pressed on through the night, weary yet still moving towards the safety of Thrymwall.

  The wind carried with it the faint sound of drums now, echoing across the plains. The hunt was far from over.

  ***

  The column reached the roaring river just as the first light of dawn began to stain the clouds in the east. The bridge ahead stretched across the churning water, five hundred metres of timber and rope that swayed with every wagon that rumbled across. And a few miles beyond, through the spray of the river, there lay the shimmering wards of the great walls of Thrymwall; hope and safety were in sight.

  Commander Veylan rode to the crest of the slope overlooking the crossing and raised his sword. “Move the civilians across first! Wagons in order, no delays! Keep to a single column or the bridge will never hold!”

  The order spread down the line. Soldiers waved the villagers forward, shouting for calm as others took up defensive positions facing the open plains behind them. The low thrum of the river filled the air, but beneath it came another sound, deeper and more dreadful, the rhythmic pounding of war drums carried by the wind.

  “Let me through you fools!” a man shouted, his voice sharp with panic.

  William turned at the noise and saw the merchant from Dunholme, the same man who had once refused to empty his wagon of goods. His horses were foaming at the mouth as he tried to force his wagon onto the bridge ahead of the others.

  “Halt!” a sergeant roared, grabbing the headgear of the lead horse. “You’ll wait your turn like everyone else!”

  The merchant ignored him. “I have to reach the city! Out of my way!” he screamed, striking the horses with his whip.

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  The animals lurched forward. The sergeant was thrown aside, landing hard on the dirt. Only the quick reflexes of another soldier saved him from being trampled.

  Commander Veylan, standing nearby, took in the scene with a grim expression. He gave a single nod to one of his archers. A heartbeat later, the twang of a bowstring cut through the air, and the merchant pitched backward from his seat, an arrow lodged in his throat.

  Gasps rippled through those close enough to see. The wagon rolled to a halt. In the back, the merchant’s wife clutched her two children, her face pale with shock but motionless.

  Veylan raised his voice so that all could hear. “Anyone who endangers this convoy will be dealt with the same way!” His gaze swept across the line. “Keep your order, keep your courage, and we’ll see this day through alive!” He looked at the dead merchant lying in the dirt and shook his head.

  The crowd shuffled. A child whimpered, and a woman pulled him close. Men adjusted grips on their spears, unwilling to meet the Commander’s eyes.

  Veylan’s soldiers redoubled their efforts to maintain control. The civilians, cowed into silence, pressed on towards the bridge in grim determination. One by one, the wagons creaked across the planks as the thunder of the river and the beat of distant drums merged into a single, relentless rhythm beneath the dawn sky.

  William looked north towards Dunholme. Despite the first touches of dawn rising, the horizon glowed with torchlight. What had begun as a faint, crawling glow had become a wall of fire. The goblins were closing fast.

  “They’re nearly here.” Fredric’s knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword.

  “I know.” Will tightened the straps on his gauntlets and scanned the ridge. “We’ll make it.” Around him, the six adventurers took their places among the rear guard. Sibrek and Pip flanked the centre beside William, while Amra and the others moved further down the line, with Marie shouting orders to the nearby villagers who had stayed behind to defend the bridge.

  “Has your family crossed yet?” Will asked his squire.

  Fredric nodded. “They were one of the first to cross. They’re safe.” The look of relief on the teenager’s face shone through the blood and grime of battle.

  William patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll see them soon, Fred. Stay close and no heroics.” He chuckled. “We don’t want your ma being right about your reckless behaviour.”

  “I’m not reckless,” he protested, but the smile was evident.

  Will smiled and checked on the progress of moving the survivors over the bridge. Ordered rows of wagons and people waited for their turn to cross the bridge. Ahead, the first of the wagons was already halfway across the bridge, wheels clattering on planks that groaned beneath the strain. Children cried out as their parents urged them on. The old and the wounded clung to the sides of carts.

  “They’ll make it,” Will muttered. “They have to.” He was no longer seeing the soldiers and the survivors as soulless NPCs. He had no doubts his body was trapped in his VR pod in a purpose-built room in his apartment, but it didn’t matter; they felt and acted like real people. As far as he was concerned, they were no less real than he was.

  Then came the horn from the rear. One long note, followed by a second.

  The first wave of goblins appeared cresting the rise, an ugly tide of snarling faces and flashing steel, no more than five hundred strong. They came howling down the slope, voices shrill and eager for blood.

  Chapter 055 [Raid Warning: Hold! No Matter the Cost!]