As soon as morning started, we made sure to prepare for the attack the Shaman warned me about, which was later confirmed by Jackle and his scouts. A large force is coming, and they want to meet me here.

  My soldiers spent hours digging, creating mounds so the enemy would have a hard time engaging my crossbow line. If what Jackle has said to me is true, then we need to be on the alert. I don’t like surprises, nor do I like the prospect of dealing with something new.

  It is the middle of the day. My soldiers lie down on the mounds while they aim their crossbows. Their bolts loaded, their fingers on the trigger. The ballista crew already have their contraptions up, ensuring our flanks are secure. My spear infantry stand behind the crossbow teams, who will spring into action if anyone gets too close.

  So far, it is a solid defence position. A way to win a battle from an approaching enemy. Yet I feel uncomfortable, uneasy at the whole thing. The Cinari should be here by now, yet they are uncharacteristically slow. Something is off, and the others are feeling it too. Some Dogs draw on the snow, either counting the minutes or watching how it eventually washes away in the wind.

  I look down at the strange syringes attached to my belt. That night flashes back to me, on how the Cinari snuck into my camp and tried to kill me. Funny, they can’t even kill an old man when he is trying to sleep. It makes people wonder how they will help me in the coming battle, how they will help me fight. For now, I’ll just hold onto them.

  Jackle approaches me, his crossbow loaded and at the ready. ‘Our line is solid,’ he says to me, but from his tone I can tell even he is on edge.

  ‘We have four thousand soldiers at the ready, but so far there is nothing.’

  ‘Maybe the Cinari were heading off somewhere else?’ Jackle points out.

  ‘No, they don’t do that. If you saw them, they most likely have seen us. They will want to fight us, it just depends on when and not so much on if.’

  Jackle nods as he looks over the field. Examining the land for anything unusual. There is a forest, an abandoned shack, and even what remains of a stone wall. I suppose this might be a ranch at some point, holding cattle or herding sheep. Perhaps our war made the farmers relocate their stock somewhere else, away from me and my army. A shame, but what can you expect from the Cinari?

  Jackle squints, focusing on the forest ahead of us. ‘Something isn’t right, over there.’ He points towards a forest, its trees moving ever so slightly.

  ‘Trees move with the wind; it doesn’t mean much.’ I say to calm his nerves.

  ‘The wind isn’t strong.’

  I pick up a fistful of snow and let it fall to the ground. He is right, as the snow just plummets to the ground with only a subtle gust of wind pushing it away. It does not explain the trees in the forest swaying.

  With a swift movement, I crank the crossbow latched on my belt to load a bolt and to draw it at the ready. Seeing this, the Dogs ready themselves as they aim down their sights. With the crunch of trees and the breaking of branches, some snarl and growl in anticipation. Revealing their fangs while their weapons thirst for battle.

  All of their bravado escapes as the creatures break through the forest to reveal their true forms. Large monsters with antlers line up, walking on all fours, wielding two shield-like gauntlets with a spike on the end of them. On the end of their helmets, near the snouts, is a hooked horn. Other than that, they wear little to no armour. Not like they need it. Even the smallest amongst them could be as tall as Midrax.

  The strange creatures are packed with muscle; they howl and roar at us while they get into formation. Steam erupts from their noses as they kick up their back hooves. There have to be only a few hundred of them. They are outnumbered. Yet they don’t show fear. My breath escapes me, facing down something alien. Something that shouldn’t even exist.

  ‘What the fuck is that thing?’ A Dog mutters under their breath.

  The last to emerge is the largest of them all, I swear it is twice as tall as the others. Its antlers have to be the same width as its body.

  ‘Marak!’ One of the creatures shouts in a low, harsh tone while it walks alone to the middle of the field with a confident stride. It wants to speak to me, but it is clear it isn’t interested in peace.

  ‘I suppose they want to talk to you.’ Jackle jokes with a dull tone, well, I can assume it is a joke.

  I give Jackle my crossbow as I head off to confront the creature. ‘Kill it if it does anything stupid.’

  As I push through knee-deep snow, hiding my limp so as not to appear weak. I keep my shield and sword on hand as I make my way to the strange beast. I have to be prepared if they try anything.

  It chuckles when I get close to them. ‘You’re Marak? A half-blind wolfkin and half greying.’ They smile to themselves, ‘and you wear a krown of khains, ironik.’

  I frown at the monster, unamused at its childish insult. ‘What are you and what do you want?’

  ‘Kharp and to the point, I like that.’ It spits before its tongue digs into its nose. Even standing close to them, their accent is like claws on a chalkboard.

  ‘Are you going to answer the question?’ I take a step towards the towering behemoth. ‘Or are you going to waste my time?’

  The bull licks its nose ring, which must be a mocking gesture. ‘I am Gir’ad. I kan tell you don’t know what my kind is. I am an Atirar, but some kall my people Qwell.’

  Now I know their name, but it doesn’t mean much by itself. ‘You want to speak with me, are you also here to take on the Cinari?’

  The Atirar laughs, like what I said was some kind of joke to them. ‘No, wolfkin. I am a Kinari! I kame here to demand your kurrender!’

  My blood boils, my head heating up at the proposal. ‘You bastard!’ I shout at the beast, ‘you dare fight alongside the enemy! They don’t care about you or anyone who isn’t their ilk. Yet here you are, too stupid to see what is in front of you. Let's not forget. I outnumber you! So, how about this, brute. You surrender to me!’

  Gir’ad lowers himself to be at my eye level with a wide grin. ‘We outklass you. Kompared to me and my Da’hkin. You and your army are weak. Pathetik! When we trample you all to death, your new toy won’t help you. Now, be a good pet and roll over, and obey the Empire.’

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  ‘You are no better than a slave!’ I retort, my hatred seeping out of me. This bastard, this creature dares to call itself a Cinari and serve them! If there are more like it, they will have no other purpose other than to be put down.

  ‘No, not a kle’van. I am loyal to an Empire that kan provide. You are just a brat! Walking away from a path you were required to follow.’ The Atirar chuckles as they head back to their army. ‘I’ll find you, Marak, you and I will fight well.’

  I head back to my own, furious as ever. My right leg burns with every step I take, but even that makes me more determined to kill him. Let’s just hope his flesh tastes good when cooked.

  As I head back to my army, I snatch my crossbow back from Jackle the moment he offers it back to me. I point at the Atirar. ‘We’ll kill every last one of them!’

  My soldiers look back at me, unsure of what to do. I suppose they need answers, but more importantly, they need motivation.

  ‘They are the enemy! Agents of the Cinari! They come to us demanding our surrender, demanding that we become slaves once again. Those brutish creatures are fools to think we will roll over and bow once more. They are arrogant! We came this far, beating every Cinari back at every turn. Now they sent their monsters! Beast that will make weaker men cower. But they forgot how we took down their sky demons, how we butchered their greatest warriors. This changes nothing! Instead, I am thankful they give us the opportunity to prove them wrong once again!’

  Dogs howl and bark, their snarls more determined than ever. Reminded that we are the ones that took the South and will now take the North. They should fear me! Not the other way around.

  The Atirar, on the other end, release their roars. Trying their best to scare us, but no, we won’t be. Maybe a year ago, we might have been frightened by them, but we are more prepared, different now.

  Gir’ad taps his chest four times. Gesturing for the first wave of his soldiers to charge towards my right flank. Their spiked shields stab into the snow while the earth rumbles in their advance. I pull out my horn to blow on it, signalling the first row of crossbows and ballista teams to fire at the advancing enemy.

  Bolts bounce off their shields, either only grazing their flesh or hitting their hulking arms. Some lucky shots pass through their defences, killing the advancing creature as it tumbles over in the snow. Ballista bolts are far more successful, as every bolt puts a sudden stop to the creature. Pinging them into the ground itself and drowning in their own blood.

  But no matter what, the hulking monsters still continue their charge, unfazed by the assault we’ve unleashed on them.

  I blow the horn twice in rapid succession, telling the crossbow teams to fall back so the spearmen can take their place. They raise their shields and prepare for the impact, bracing themselves as if it will be like a Cinari cavalry charge. It didn’t slow them down.

  The Atirar crash through the shield wall, their spike gauntlets punching into the gaps of our armour and killing the soldier. Like raving lunatics, they wave their antlers to knock away nearby Dogs while using the horn as a third optional weapon. My right flank devolves into chaos, while my left struggles to hold together as every Dog joins the fight to meet the creatures in brutal melee. My Dogs struggle to kill the rampaging Atirar, taking about thirty Dogs to even bring down a single one.

  Gir’ad gestures for the remainder of his soldiers to attack, this time focusing on my left flank. It is clear now, he needs to fall! I can tell he wants me for himself. I can also tell that we are both the pillars of our army. While my soldiers fight bravely, they only continue fighting because I am alive. The same can be said about him.

  I pass my war horn to Jackle, ‘coordinate my army! Do not let my flanks collapse at any cost. I’ll take on their leader myself.’

  Jackle nods, taking on the role of a leader as if it is his second nature. Ordering the left flank to brace while ensuring the right flank doesn’t route.

  Donning my helm, I march towards Gir’ad. My crossbow aimed in his general direction. I can tell the smug bastard is smiling, thinking this will just be any other duel. They stride towards me, steam seeping out of their nostrils like a bizarre contraption of war. To my luck, the other Atirar ignore me as they rush down the hill. It is clear our fight is for us and us alone.

  As we meet halfway, the creature charges. I fire my crossbow, but it only goes through their left antler. There is no chance I can load a second bolt in time, nor can I holster it. I throw the crossbow to the ground to pull out my sword. If I can’t take it from afar, I’ll take pleasure in ripping its head from its spine!

  Gir’ad roars while they slash at my chest, metal sparking off my armour as I narrowly jump out of the way. I thrust my sword into them, only for the beast to grab my weapon and backhand me. Sending me flying into the air while knocking the helmet from my head.

  I hit the ground hard with a loud thud, air escaping my lungs. With a pained groan, my hand reaches for my sword, only for it not to be there. I try to stand up, even while my leg sings in agony. Just in time to see the Atirar about to make the killing blow. I parry their attack with my shield, giving me an opening to crash my shield into their face.

  He staggers back a bit. Regaining their footing to push against my defensive stance. I slip, causing my shield to hook on its right antler. Seeing this as an opportunity, I try to twist my shield to control the monster. Oh, what a fool I am.

  They are toying with me. Gir’ad knocks me back with a headbutt to the face, dazing me before grabbing my shield and throwing it away. Making me truly defenceless. Other than the dagger I lazily pull out of its holster.

  ‘I expekted to fight a king! How you mock me!’ He taunts.

  I ready myself for another of his attacks, seeing this as an invitation. They charge, snow blowing away with every step they take. I duck under them as they lunge towards me, giving me a chance to punch the underside of their mouth.

  ‘You little kunt!’ He shouts just before the horn of their helm slashes the right side of my face.

  My legs buckle, shaking as I try to open my right eye. Only that I can’t. I try blinking, but even that doesn’t work. Nothing can be seen from there; the rest of my vision only comes from my left eye.

  I brace myself for one more, but before I can react to anything. The Atirar whacks me across the face. Dulling the senses, ceasing my hearing, and darkening my world.