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that is,
but Erec’s.
    Erec knew that
while he and his men were outnumbered, still, they had the advantage of
surprise. If they could strike quickly enough, perhaps they could take them all
out.
    Erec turned to
his men and saw Strom standing there beside him, eagerly awaiting his command.
    “Take command of
the ship beside me,” Erec commanded his younger brother—and no sooner had he
uttered the words than his brother burst into action. He ran across the deck, leapt
off the rail and onto the ship sailing beside them, where he quickly headed to
the bow and took command.
    Erec turned to
his soldiers crowding around him on his ship, waiting his direction.
    “I don’t want
them alerted to our presence,” he said. “We must get as close as we can.
Archers—at the ready!” he cried. “And all of you, grab your spears and kneel
down!”
    The soldiers all
took positions, squatting low all along the rail, rows and rows of Erec’s
soldiers lined up, all holding spears and bows, all well-disciplined, patiently
awaiting his command. The currents picked up, Erec saw the Empire forces
looming close, and he felt the familiar rush in his veins: battle was in the
air.
    They got closer
and closer, now but a hundred yards away, and Erec’s heart was pounding, hoping
they were not detected, feeling the impatience of all his men around him,
waiting to attack. They just had to get in range, and every lap of the water,
every foot they gained, he knew, was invaluable. They only had one chance with
their spears and arrows, and they could not miss.
    Come on , Erec thought. Just
a little bit closer .
    Erec’s heart
sank as an Empire soldier suddenly turned casually and examined the waters—and
then squinted in confusion. He was about to spot them—and it was too soon. They
were not in range yet.
    Alistair, beside
him, saw it, too. Before Erec could give the command to start the battle early,
she suddenly stood, and with a serene, confident expression, raised her right
palm. A yellow ball appeared in it, and she pulled her arm back and then hurled
it forward.
    Erec watched in
wonder as the orb of light floated up in the air above them and came down, like
a rainbow, and descended over them. Soon a mist appeared, obscuring their view,
protecting them from Empire eyes.
    The Empire
soldier now peered into the mist, confused, seeing nothing. Erec turned and
smiled at Alistair knowing that, once again, they would be lost without her.
    Erec’s fleet
continued to sail, now all perfectly hidden, and Erec looked over at Alistair
in gratitude.
    “Your palm is
stronger than my sword, my lady,” he said with a bow.
    She smiled back.
    “It is still
your battle to win,” she replied.
    The winds
carried them closer, the mist staying with them, and Erec could see all of his
men itching to fire their arrows, to hurl their spears. He understood; his
spear itched in his palm, too.
    “Not yet,” he
whispered to his men.
    As they parted
the mist, Erec began to catch glimpses of the Empire soldiers. They stood on
the ramparts, their muscled backs glistening, raising whips high and lashing
villagers, the crack of their whips audible even from here. Other soldiers
stood peering into the river, clearly summoned by the man on watch, and they
all peered suspiciously into the mist, as if suspecting something.
    Erec was so
close now, his ships hardly thirty yards away, his heart pounding in his ears.
Alistair’s mist began to clear, and he knew the time had come.
    “Archers!” Erec
commanded. “Fire!”
    Dozens of his
archers, all up and down his fleet, stood, took aim, and fired.
    The sky filled
with the sound of arrows leaving string, sailing through the air—and the sky
darkened with the cloud of deadly arrowtips, flying high in an arc, then
turning down for the Empire shore.
    A moment later
cries rang through the air, as the cloud of deadly arrows descended upon the
Empire soldiers teeming in the fort. The battle had begun.
    Horns sounded
everywhere,