While the rest snuck behind and trapped
them against Orynth’s walls.
The western gate sundered at last.
Aedion was ready when it did. When the
battering ram knocked through, iron
screaming as it yielded. Then there were
Morath soldiers everywhere.
Shield to shield, Aedion had arranged his
men into a phalanx to greet them.
It was still not enough. The Bane could do
nothing to stop the tide that poured from the
battlefield, pushing them back, back, back up
the passageway. And even Ren, leading the
men atop the walls, could not halt the flow
that surged over them.
They had to shut the gate again. Had to find
a way to get it shut.
Aedion could barely draw breath, could
barely keep his legs under him.