He swept it down and the sky filled with the sound of battle horns. The battle raged on but the attention of both armies had wavered. The blizzard was so thick a man could barely see the enemy in front of him, and casualties from friendly strikes were rising. Onager stones still whistled across the sky but now Prosentor Kreysun's artillery was answering. And they were finding their targets. Kreysun ran back through his onager wagons and towards the front line. Soldiers loomed out of the blizzard in front of him. A flight of stones screamed overhead. Death would come to people unseen. He heard impacts on the fortifications in front of him. Ragged cheers reached him on the gale that washed across the battle front. He found the back of the lines and a sentor straining to see anything other than vague shapes and shadows five yards ahead. 'You must keep them pressing in the centre,' he shouted. 'Get word to the flanks to hold steady.' 'Yes, Prosentor.' The battle was not controllable. He couldn't disengage.
