Part 72 (2/2)
Yet he had seen the Cursed Ones close up as well, and surely the Cursed Ones held determination close to their hearts, too. No wonder war was a curse.
One of the Cursed Ones rode within a bow's shot of the village and loosed a burning arrow. It sailed over the palisade to land, sputtering, in the dirt. Another arrow flew, and a third and a fourth, then a shower. Children ran toward the safety of the houses, only to be driven back when the thatched roof of the men's house caught and began to burn, twin to the fire that consumed Adica's house, another funeral pyre.
Sorrow and Rage panted below, gazing loyally up at him. It was easy to think now that his heart had died of sorrow yet again. It was easy to act because he knew he, too, would die. It was simply not possible to go on living without her.
”Advca, you must go up to the stone loom. Their arrows can't reach you there. I want ten adults to attend her. Make sure she's covered and safe. You'll have to lie low all day, beloved. Can you do that?” She nodded.
”What shall we do?” asked the woman called Ulfrega, war leader of the Four Houses warriors.
”We'll need fighters all along the palisade. That's our weakness.”
o ”Not the cleft and the ditch?”
”The planks are pulled back, so the Cursed Ones can't charge through. Set a force with spears there, behind s.h.i.+elds, and the best archers up along the palisade. That's the first place they'll try to break through. If somehow riders break through, you must brace the hafts of your spears in the dirt and hold them steady. Then they'll drive their horses into the points.”
She nodded. An arrow sailed lazily overhead and skittered along the opposite embankment, rolling downslope to end up at one of the centaur's hooves.” What of the villagers?” she asked.
”Beor can lead them well enough. He'll let their archers use up their arrows as long as he can. It will help us that the Cursed Ones are caught between two pincers. They have to protect themselves from both sides. And we have a few tricks planned, things they can't expect. Just pa.s.s the word along the palisade that none of you are to shoot arrows unless you come under direct attack. Have children pick up any arrow that falls in to us. We can shoot it back at them.”
In the village, a third house had caught on fire.
”Sos'ka, you and your comrades must keep a perimeter watch all around the hill. If any place on the embankment is weakened, send one to alert me, and we'll send reinforcements. If they break in behind us, we are lost. Ulfrega, you must remain here to command if I'm called away. Adica!”
She still watched the movements of the Cursed Ones and, farther, the smoke pouring up from the burning houses. A fourth house in the village caught fire, but people hurried to soak the thatch of the adjoining council house roof with water.
A line of Cursed Ones rode closer to examine the tumulus. One rash soldier with a fox mask rode in and, whooping, twirled a sling around his head. Stones peppered the palisade. A dozen archers rode close enough to shoot.
Alain took hold of her arm roughly and tugged her down, while folk around them gasped to see him handle her so.” You must get back to safety.”
”Where will you be?” A single tear snaked down her cheek.
”I will always be with you. I'll follow when I can.”
She climbed down the ladder. A dozen adults formed around her and hurried away up through the higher embankments, toward the stone circle.
”Shall we shoot at them?” cried one of the archers near Alain.
”Nay, they're no threat to us yet. Let them waste their arrows.”
Beor's archers had begun to return arrow fire, and the archers of the Cursed Ones retreated to their main force, content evidently with the mischief their arrows caused in the village: five houses burned merrily now. Smoke boiled up into the sky, and ash fell everywhere. Yet the Cursed Ones waited as an unseen drum counted the pa.s.sing with a steady rhythm that seemed to reverberate up from the earth. Leaning against the palisade logs, Alain felt that throbbing rhythm, oddly soothing, drawing his mind away, causing memories to flower as his attention drifted, Up among the ruins near Lavas Holding, he sees the shadows of what had been, not the shadows of the ruins lying there now. The lantern's pale light and the gleam of stone illuminate the shadows of the buildings as if they stand whole and unfallen. This filigree of arches and columns and proud walls stretching out as impossible shadows along the ground is the shade of the old fort, come alive as memories twist forward...
Liath stands in front of a heap of wood. Everything is damp. Even the air sweats moisture; in a moment it will start to rain. All at once, fire shoots up out of branches, licking and crackling. Falling to one knee, Liath stares at the fire as a gout of flame boils up toward the sky. Are those shadows dancing within the flame? She stares, intent, as distant then as Adica has become now, and draws from her tunic a brilliant gold feather.
Ai, G.o.d! He knows that feather, or knew one like it: a phoenix feather like the one he plucked from the cavern floor. In her hands, it glints fire. The veil concealing the shadows in the fire draws aside, burned away by its pure light, and he can see: An old man, tvisting flax into rope against his thigh.
Why does he look so familiar?
Rage barked, startling him. He rubbed his eyes as the folk around him murmured uneasily. Below, gra.s.s and stubbled fields bled a gauzy mist into the air. The enemy faded beneath the sun as if they had only been illusion all along, first darkening to shadow and then lost in a shrouding fog that seemed to drift up out of the earth itself. Mist boiled forward over the ground, spreading out in a broad front that would engulf both village and tumulus. Not a single rider could be seen beneath that veil of fog. The Cursed Ones had hidden themselves with magic.
The wind s.h.i.+fted sharply, blowing in from the east, and as it gained strength, the magical shroud shuddered and gave ground, catching out a handful of riders, the vanguard, who scrambled to return to the cover of the fog. A thud rang out from the village.
”The catapult!” cried Alain A large pot came sailing over the wall and vanished into the mist. Beor had unleashed the first surprise. Shrieks and panicked whinnying floated out of the drowning fog as bees, now free and agitated, took their vengeance upon the Cursed Ones. The mist rolled back to unveil one force advanced almost to the village gate and the other closing in on the tumulus. The enemy soldiers, their magic exposed and disrupted by the bees, fell back to regroup as the White Deer people showered the foremost riders with arrows. A third force of Cursed Ones could be seen circling around toward the east side of the crown.
”Sos'ka!” he called. She had sent eight of her comrades away along the tumulus already.” Follow that group to see where they're going!” She cantered away.
The vanguard nearest him, retreating, reversed itself suddenly and charged for the ramparts. Arrows rained down and, after them, a hail of stones from slings. Children screamed. The man standing next to Alain jerked backward, spun, and fell to hit the ground below with a smack. Blood pooled under his body. The Cursed Ones leaped off their horses and hit the embankment running, scrambling up toward the parapet.
”Don't waste your spears!” Alain cried, but even so some threw away their spears by trying to strike at the enemy below them, in vain.
Yet what point did it serve the Cursed Ones to come up against the palisade, which they could not climb without ladders? The soldiers held their s.h.i.+elds high, protecting one among their number, a woman dressed more lightly than the others, as she raced forward to throw herself against the wood. Where she touched the posts, wood flowered to life as fire.
”Water! Water!” The cry came down the line. Buckets of water were handed up to those on the walkway, who spilled them over even as the Cursed Ones continued to shoot arrows at the defend- ers. The villagers dropped rocks on top of the s.h.i.+elds, battering them down, and a ragged cheer rose out of the ranks when the sorcerer was struck directly on the head with a big rock and went tumbling back down the slope.
”They're bringing ladders and planks!” Ulfrega's powerful voice rang out from the cleft, where she had taken charge of the defense.” Spears, stand your ground. Archers, hold until they're closer!”
The sorcerous mist rose as a cloud near the village. A second thump sounded; the second pot of bees arched up from the catapult and fell precipitously, but this time the Cursed Ones were ready for them as they charged out of the mist to escape the bees behind them. Fire bloomed in two more of the village houses. Cries and shouting and screams echoed everywhere. Tendrils of smoke obscured the fields. Thunder cracked, and clouds pushed in from the west, ominously dark.
”Alain!”
Sos'ka galloped up, sweat running all along her flanks, her expression grim.” There was another force waiting in ambush apart from the one you saw. They've almost broken through on the eastern slope, by the sacred threshold to the queens' grave. Come quickly!”
He scrambled down the ladder, leaping off the fourth rung to the ground, almost landing on the corpse. He grabbed a pair of girls, not much younger than Adica, who were cowering under the walkway.” You! Go to Ulfrega. Tell her she must hold the entrance now. You! Run up to the Hallowed One. She must find a way to counter their magic, if she can.”
He jumped-up, got his belly over Sos'ka's flank, and swung a leg over.
”Stay down,” said the centaur.
He clutched her mane, head ducked low as she trotted along at a jarring rate, negotiating barrels of water and cider, stores of grain, shelters, and four wounded men who had crawled away from the palisade. At last she broke free of chaos and opened up to a gallop. The sounds of battle roared around them, shouts echoing behind and before. She knew her way well through the maze of the ramparts, blind alleys, and earthen mounds that made up the hill's defenses. Fighters manned the palisade walkway, thrusting with spears or heaving rocks over the side. Now and again they pa.s.sed a zone of unexpected calm, where nervous guards waited, craning their necks to get a look down the palisade to knots of fighting.
He had heard these sounds before. Memory dizzied him.
The Lions hold the hill as Bayan 's army retreats across the river. The first cohort stands the rear guard, and Alain keeps step with his comrades as they retreat up the hill with their fellows. The ramparts lie in a maze around them, ancient embankments curling around the hill's slopes.
He remembered these embankments, but when he had seen them last they had been so old that they had fallen in ruin and were half washed away under the brunt of time and wind and rain. He had fought in this place before. Yet the earthworks around him now were newly raised; any fool could see that.
He had fought here before in the time yet to come. This is where the Lady of Battles had killed him.
The curve of the ramparts brought them into sight of a ferocious fight. Cursed Ones had gotten over the palisade, and now Sos'ka's centaurs and a score of White Deer warriors grappled hand to hand, pounding with clubs, thrusting with knives. A roan centaur parried a spear thrust with her staff, flipped her opponent to the ground, and stove in his head with a well placed kick. Fire licked up the palisade. A shout rose from the enemy, unseen on the other side as they pushed forward.
A woman with her animal mask torn free slid over the posts, dropping to the walkway. She braced herself, met the charge of a man with the cut of her bronze sword, then dropped to one knee as she lifted her other arm high and spun a sling briskly around her head. Let fly.
”Down!” cried Sos'ka.
He ducked. A kiss of air brushed an ear as the stone shot past his hair. The second bounced off his skrolin armband with a snap. But the third slammed into his temple without warning.
Pain stabbed through his head as he tumbled off Sos'ka's back. The ground hit harder even than the stone.
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