For of amalocs the records of the Garden of Eden make no mention.
Swaying their ponderous heads, and with the turrets on their shoulders heaving and tossing like boats on a troubled sea, the amalocs went forward.
Far in the turmoil of the fight Oleric heard that trumpeting. Over his shoulder he looked and saw the mighty red bulk of Ixstus push out from among the trees.
With their trunks curled out of harm's way, their thick and ropy tails stretched straight out behind, and their ears flapping to their stride, the amalocs came down the grim lanes of battle. Though the legs that were as the trunks of trees for size swung with no apparent haste, the beasts came on at a pace that it would have troubled a trotting horse to distance. The lengths of chain fastened to their knee-harness whistled through the air like flails.
From division to division along Ruthar's jagged battle-line sped the warning cry:
"Way! Way for Zoar! Make way for the amalocs!"
Under the tossing ivory fronts the divisions parted and drew aside. Zoar increased the distance between his beasts. Into thirty wide aisles the army split. From forest to front, save for the dead, the way was clear. From the wild vortex of the battle rose a stormy burst of cheering as the amalocs thundered down the aisles, and Ruthar's exultant warriors welcomed their gigantic allies.
Wilder still was the cheering when it was seen that at the ends of the pathways the phalanxes of Bel-Ar's men-at-arms were crumbling away. Flesh and blood could not abide the onset that was coming, and the Maeronican legions broke and fled ingloriously across the plains in droves, many of them casting away their arms and shields as they ran.
Bidding his charioteer pull in his horses, Oleric climbed up on the high front of his chariot to watch how Bel-Ar would meet this new stroke. What would meet the drive of the amalocs? As he reached his vantage-point, the answer came—a cavalry charge!
From the wall of his camp, where he had been taken, nursing an arm that was numb from wrist to shoulder, the Maeronican king ground his teeth in fury as he saw the new force enter the battle and witnessed the melting of his legions. Once before, in the morning, his cavalry had been rudely handled, and he had laughed. Now, with tears of rage in his eyes, he dispatched his shattered squadrons in the teeth of the oncoming peril.