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Ahead he could hear battle cries, while behind the wails of the dead crow-men showed they were still gaining. By now he was drenched in sweat. He had never run so hard in his life. This ghostly company had almost worn him out.

On a signal from their silver haired leader, they were moving out of the wood. Ged followed them from the cover of the trees and reeled. A group of Forest Reivers was making a last stand atop a crumbling wall. He almost gasped in horror at the numbers of crow-men before them.

The woman looked around and gave a brief nod. Silently, the ghostly company drew short swords that glimmered white in the night. They were a terrifying force, impossibly quick, they came down upon the dark horde of the dead in silence. Ged would never forget how they danced through them with their weapons shining like beacons of light in the blackness.

A top the wall, Braden had seen the ghostly company before and had the scar to prove it. He was mesmerised as the dark mass realised it was caught between two foes and began twisting round to defend itself.

To Jarl’s mind the ghostly company were angels answering the prayers of the desperate defenders, a shining force that was beginning to turn the tide.

But just as hope was returning, a roar burst from the wood and seconds later the enraged horde from the King’s Seat poured onto the battlefield, snarling and shrieking their hatred for the living.
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