"Junon! Junon!" She screamed nervously looking around.
She noticed him, he was lying there grunting softly, with an arrow sticking out of his throat. His face expressed endless surprise. Her best archer was dead. Setia has never experienced such a defeat in all her history. Someone lunged at her from the side, she jumped and, making a mighty swing with her Catamaran steel sword, she cut off his head. She felt the crunch of the cervical vertebrae and the resistance of the bone. The blood droplets of the deceased landed on her face and clothes. The head rolled over the wall and fell on the Equerds attacking Kanror with a thud.
"The main gate hasn't fallen yet – next to her appeared a blond haired Ars who was panting heavily giving her the report. - but the Equerds are everywhere."
Their conversation was interrupted by the loud "Hooray" of the attackers. More Equerds forced their way inside, apparently through the main gate. They looked like a huge swarm of ants in their black carapaces. They spilled like a black tart on all the alleys and streets of the city. "Fucking Odegon," she cursed under her breath. She was angry with herself, hatred, and a private vendetta on the Equerdas was her motivation to accept this assignment. As it turned out, feelings are a poor adviser.
"We have to get out of here, this castle is already down. Ars get ours together" - she muttered through her teeth, keeping her eyes on the people fighting in the square.
It's true what they say about mercenaries, they fight for gold and not for honor, glory or other noble crap. Setia was a mercenary and fought with her squad for whoever would pay more. Odegon, the king of Kanror, must be dead by now, and if not, he will be killed soon. She won't definitely get any more gold from him. It makes no sense to risk your neck any longer, especially since part of the squad was already dead. The closest was the East Tower, the windows of which faced the river surrounding Kanror on both sides. It was supposed to be one of their escape routes if things turned out differently than planned, and it seems that "things' ' were going in the totally wrong direction at this very moment.
"Follow me! Let's get the fuck out of here !!" She tried to shout over the sounds of the constant attack.
They tried to break through the ramparts. Most of the fighters were now in the courtyard. A huge crucible filled with the blood of the dead and the rubble of a destroyed city. The soldiers of Kanror and Equerd became one mass of worms writhing on the bloody corpse of the city. The crunch of armor and the fearful neighing of horses were combined with the sound of fighting and dying people. For a moment, Setia watched this spectacle with fascination, and that was probably why she noticed the big fat bearded man at the very last moment.
She parried his attack with her sword, but the force of the blow shook her balance and taking a step back, she slipped on the guts of the slain archer. The bearded man didn't waste any time, he wanted to finish off his work. Seta realized that in the next few seconds the question of her future could be resolved very quickly. Equerd charged with all his weight, Setia tried to deflect the attack, but the opponent's sword was led out with such force that she felt her arms weaken and her own weapon thrust into her own body. "Haleon, save me." Setia was not a strong believer, but she predicted that the meeting with the creator might soon take place. Equerda's saliva dripped on her cheek, she could feel his foul breath, the breath of approaching death smelling of beer, unchodged food and, above all, onions.
Ars saved her with one clean thrust between the ribs and the bearded man collapsed like a block, pinning Setia's right leg. At first she felt no pain, the adrenaline gave her a fresh amount of power. She jerked her leg out from under the dead man, got up and bent for the sword. Only then did she realize something was grossly wrong.
"Setia, your eye ..." Ars's face froze.
Setia felt a slowly increasing pain in her skull, some sticky warm liquid running down her left cheek. She touched the wound gently, its edges were even, her brow bone and part of her cheek were cut open. The wound was deep, Setia could not see anything with her left eye. She did not want to say aloud what she was afraid of.
"Come on, we must go! There is no time!" Opra urged.
Her voice snapped Setia out of her lethargy. It was just then, that the wave of great pain came. Setia gritted her teeth. She tore off a piece of her cloak and tied it around the wound. Together with their men, they huddled in a niche in a bricked-up window. The wound throbbed with excruciating pain and made it impossible to think about anything else.
"The access to the tower is well guarded" reported Boregin "but we can't do it anywhere else."
"Who survived?" Setia asked, trying to concentrate on the words of the best ax-maker in the unit.
"The nine of us, I also saw Ron, Ingo, Tregor, Jud and Led, as they were making their way towards us."
" Well this much must do. This is the moment guys, each of us has to do our best. Those who survive will meet at the agreed place." Setia adjusted the blindfold, blood soaked through the fabric and ran down her cheek with a thin trickle. She felt an overwhelming pain radiating from the wounded eye socket all over her head. Still she had to pull it together. It was now or never.