Beneath the bright moon, gleaming iron helmets and shining iron armor appeared on every side of the Easterling camp. Behind them came shadowy figures and pinpricks of cold light, like stars scattered across the sky.
An Easterling sentry standing atop a wagon was the first to spot these unexpected intruders. An experienced lookout, he immediately turned and shouted into the camp, warning his companions to report to their leader.
Then the sentry watched the enemy draw closer, gripping his longbow tightly and judging its range so he could attack the moment they came within reach.
He could only hope his leader would react quickly and organize the tribespeople to defend the camp. More and more enemies appeared before him, their slowly approaching ranks stretching so far beneath the moonlight that he could see no end to them.
The tension of an army bearing down on the camp filled the Easterling sentry with waves of fear. When a cold wind swept across his sweat-drenched face, the icy sweat set his nerves on edge. At last, he could no longer suppress the urge to flee and turned to jump down from the wall of wagons.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Several arrows whistled toward him, pinning the sentry dead where he stood just as he turned. Even as he died, he wondered why the enemy's range exceeded his own by more than a quarter.
He was not the only sentry struck by arrows. Every Easterling standing atop a wagon became a target for the archers wielding Elves Longbows, and one after another, they screamed and fell from the wagons.
The attackers were, of course, the infantry force led by Alayen. Before the assault, Hollimion had taken all of Allen's Horse Archers, along with one of the Friends of Animals who had a night hawk