CHAPTER 111

Nesryn had not anticipated the ilken. How
terrible even a few dozen would be.
Nimble and vicious, they swept over the
front lines of Morath’s teeming ranks. Black
as the fallen night and more than eager to
meet the ruks in combat.
Sartaq had given the order to unleash
whatever burning arrows they could find. The
heat of one scorched Nesryn’s fingers as she
picked a target amongst the dark fray and
fired.
The flame speared into the night, right for
an ilken poised to tear into a Darghan horse.