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On the flats to the east, dust lifted in a long sheet. Mardek's forcen—what was left of it— came on in a single swollen line. Five hundred. No carts. No tents. Only weapons, shields, and the taste of spite in the air.
Kai kept his voice steady.
"Hold formation," he said down the soul-thread that bound him to his marked men. "No one breaks line. We cut them and we don't get cut."
The drones heard him too. They did not speak back with words, but their reply came like a soft thrum through the stone.
Silvershadow commanded the Shade Band — three hundred drones in dark wraps, spread thin across the east face. Shadeclaw took the Claw Line — four hundred drones built like short shields, stacked in two ranks along the main ramp. Shale, broad-shouldered and calm, led the Stone Cohort —three hundred fifty drones carrying slab shields cut last night from spare plates.
