Rastaban stood atop the hill and watched the front ranks go down in a serried frenzy of flame and blades, but he had others watching, waiting for that moment when Shanka thought she had regained control.
Her women were good, and soon they’d formed ranks shaped like triangles that thrust jaggedly into his ranks. They had their shields up and they positively bristled with spears, but that wasn’t enough.
Rastaban gave the signal, and the air sang with arrows.
Shanka’s front rank fell, but the second and third ranks snapped their shields into place.
His men dogpiled onto the formations.
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