Page 9 of Black Sea

I didn’t want men’s blood to stain elves’ hands, branding us as murderers.

“Attack!” the general shouted.

The next moment, my brother signaled to unleash the first wave of arrows, which took out the first two rows of the opposing legion.

One blink later, with a small rearing, Ringil threw herself forward. To my ears, the hooves on the wood sounded like they covered every other noise until we reached the other side. Using my peripheral vision, I saw Araton’s gray figure make it to this bank as well, followed by our army.

Then the fight started.

Humans were good fighters who had sharpened their skills over the ages. Still, they couldn’t match the elegance of the elves, who seemed to dance on the grass, dodging slashes, parrying strikes, and landing blows meant to knock out their opponents.

I had just kicked a boy in the face, blood pouring from his nostrils, when my gaze locked onto the general’s bloodshot eye.

“Push them back!” Araton yelled as his stallion reared up to keep anyone from approaching.

“Reach the bridges!” the general replied as if he understood our language. “Don’t give in!”

But, knowing they had no chance, some of his soldiers were already retreating toward Leukós, the shining capital of the Kingdom of Men that sat among the hills in the distance.

I swung my sword and tightened my grip on the reins, ready to lunge at the general when suddenly I heard a sharp noise.

A crack.

It wasn’t the crack of cartilage in a nose, jaw, arm bone, kneecap, or from a stick under the sole.

It was a crack in the stone.

I heard a long, uneven crack forming in a jerky way on a very high wall of boulders, which began to emit a terrifying squeak.

I quickly turned to my brother, whose wide eyes, along with those of all the other elves, darted toward the plateau to the northeast.

In the next moment, Lake Caran’s dam collapsed.

3

The explosion boomed eerily across the vast plain, and the shockwave seemed to reach all the way here, ruffling my hair. The armies stopped fighting each other, and every single gaze turned toward the high grounds.

For a moment, it was like we were all holding our breath.

The ground began to shake.

The Glawar stream rose, and soon the river swelled, starting to overflow.

Then, with a rising roar, an avalanche of water appeared from the hills to the northeast.

In an instant, Araton charged at the witch, pressing his blade to his throat and growling in the common tongue, “Hold those damned bridges up, if you want to live.”

At the same time, I shouted in Elvish, “Fall back!”

“On the hills!” the men’s general screamed, giving a strong heel kick to his mount’s sides and riding off without worrying about his soldiers.

“ Run!” I then screamed in the common tongue.

The roar of the water wall rushing toward us was so loud that I couldn’t even hear the desperate footsteps of men, elves, and horses on the now swampy ground.

In a few moments, thanks to the elves’ innate speed, our army was once again on the other side of the river, heading toward our port. I saw my brother tell the witch to let go of one of the two bridges, which disintegrated into the river, then to follow him on the other side, with his sword at the witch’s neck as they crossed the remaining bridge.

“Nauriel, hurry up!” Araton urged me, trying to hold back his stallion and the witch, both of whom wanted to run away.