The Wolf (Under the Northern Sky #1)

by Leo Carew

The crash of the two lines striking one another was a punch to the guts; like an immense volley of cannon-fire, or a tremendous rolling wave of thunder. It was the sound of shields cracking and slamming into steel; of men smashing to the ground; of axes reducing wood to splinters. Beneath all that was a deeper, more subtle noise. It was the “ooph” of five thousand men having the air forced from their lungs. The battle that had followed was quite as intense as had been reckoned. Roper had anticipated a contest of skill: heroic flourishing of the sword and men fighting one-on-one. But Githru was about muscle. The Anakim line exerted huge pressure onto their Suthern opponents, who were warping and buckling beneath it. Bodies falling backwards as if time had slowed, held between the pressure at their backs and the more powerful, more inexorable force pressing from the front. The Suthern line churning and tumbling like ploughed earth. Swords almost forgotten. A great wheezing escaping from that dynamic arc where the two forces met, as the Sutherners being trampled underfoot fought for air.