Part 32 (1/2)

Tal dodged under the necks of horses, killing any man he came within a sword's length of. Six men were on the ground dead or dying before the raiders realized that an enemy was in their midst. Just as men started shouting orders, John Creed unleashed his attack.

Creed's men raced out from behind the building where they had been hiding, and a moment later Jasquenel and his warriors attacked from the other side. The raiders still had superior numbers but they were in turmoil while Tal's forces had both a purpose and goal.

For a moment there seemed to be a balance, as the outnumbered defenders held the attackers at bay, while Tal moved among the raiders like death incarnate, killing with b.l.o.o.d.y efficiency. His opponents would see him for a moment, then he would vanish behind a rearing horse only to be seen a moment later leaping over the body of a fallen comrade.

But the enemy began to organize themselves, and soon the Orodon and mercenary ambush was repulsed. Tal shouted, ”Keep attacking!” in the Orodon language, then repeated the command in the Common Tongue.

Horses were running through the smoke, between the buildings and back out of the gate, and the conflict began to resolve itself. Tal found himself suddenly surrounded by six men, and at that moment he felt fated to die.

Then the man directly in front of him was struck by an arrow through the neck, and the one beside him went wide-eyed as he was struck from behind by John Creed's blade. Tal spun and slashed out with all his strength, taking a man's head completely off his shoulders, then carrying the blow through to strike the shoulder of the man next to him.

Then the dozen riders at the rear of the village attacked.

Raiders turned to see hors.e.m.e.n emerging from the smoke, shouting and bearing down on them, and a number of the enemy turned to run. More followed, and suddenly it was a rout.

Those raiders who could, mounted horses and sped back across the clearing towards the trees, while others fled on foot. Many were slain by the archers who had stayed up on the wall despite the dangerous proximity of the burning gate and the choking smoke.

Tal shouted, ”Hold!”

The Orodon and mercenary riders reined in and Tal cried, ”We don't want to get scattered out there in the dark! We could lose everything we've won.”

The Orodon began to cheer. Then people started to deal with the fires, fetching water from the village well, and attacking smaller fires with blankets or kicking earth onto them.

For a full minute the people celebrated with backslapping, congratulations, and a great sense of triumph, although soon chance-fallen comrades would be discovered in other parts of the village, or beneath the wall. Tal was about to tell the men to search for wounded and the dead who might be out of sight when a shout came from the wall above. ”They've stopped!”

Tal hurried to the gate, which was now a smoking pile of embers on either side of a gap in the wall, and looked into the distance. The fire behind him had blinded him to the night, so it took a full minute for his vision to adjust so that he could properly see what was taking place across the clearing.

Raven was rallying his forces!

Tal could not afford to hesitate. ”Everyone fights!” he shouted. ”They're coming back.” To the few remaining bowmen he shouted, ”Up on the walls! Pick your targets carefully.” Placing his left hand on Jasquenel's shoulder, he said, ”Tell the older children to get the little ones out into the woods now, but the women stay and fight if they're able.”

Creed said, ”Your eyes are better than mine. All I see is some movement.”

The fire behind them illuminated half the distance between the gate and the edge of the clearing, and most of the men near Tal could see only a confused blur. ”They're coming,” he observed. ”Most are on foot, but I think he's got a dozen horses moving out there somewhere.” Then he yelled, ”We stand here!”

”Well, I always prefer a stand-up fight to a running battle or a siege,” Creed said. Lowering his voice, he asked, ”How many?”

”More than us,” Tal replied.

”Well, wouldn't be the first time.”

Tal hurried to what was left of the gate, blinking away tears from the acrid smoke, and stared into the gloom once more.

As shapes began to loom up out of the darkness, Tal saw that Raven had bullied his men back into some semblance of order. They advanced in three lines, about twenty men abreast, with the first rank holding s.h.i.+elds in front of them. The second rank had every pole arm weapon they possessed-halberds to pull riders from horses, spears; even two lances had been pressed into service. The third line was composed of archers.

To the men on the wall, Tal shouted: ”Ignore the men in front. Kill their archers if you can!”

Creed squinted. ”He's ready for the cavalry to charge.”

Tal nodded. ”Too bad we can't oblige him. He doesn't know our cavalry consisted of a dozen men who are now standing here.”

Two dozen children, the oldest carrying the very youngest, ran past, darting to the left at the gate, hugging the wall and heading south into the woods.

The women came out, many bearing weapons which had once belonged to Raven's men. Tal directed them into the buildings on the right and left, telling them to fall on the attackers from behind once the archers came into the stockade.

Tal moved his forces back as close to the burning catapults as they could go. The flames had diminished, but there was still enough heat to discourage anyone from approaching any closer. They would be silhouettes against the flames, while Raven's men would be revealed by the light once they entered the compound.

As the attackers advanced to the first bridge, those in the first rank started racing across in pairs, holding their s.h.i.+elds high to protect themselves from archers. The expected fusillade of arrows didn't materialize as those on the walls waited for Raven's archers to come into range.

”Get ready!” Tal shouted, and suddenly the first line of raiders charged. ”Hold your ground!”

Bellowing their war-cries, the twenty men in the first rank ran into the compound, and battle was joined. Tal wished he had spent more time practising against an opponent with a s.h.i.+eld when he had trained in Salador, for while he could quickly best most swordsmen on the duelling floor of the Masters' Court, a man with a s.h.i.+eld was a rather more difficult proposition.

The sound of bow strings snapping told Tal that the archers on both sides were busy. He heard shouts and screams of pain nearby, and guessed that Raven's archers were shooting at the enemy on the ground, ignoring the half a dozen bowmen who were firing at them. He hoped his own archers could diminish the number out there quickly.

Tal slashed and thrust as frantically as he had ever done in his life, trying to protect those on either side of him as well as to defend himself. Raiders fell, only to be replaced by other raiders.

Time seemed to slow as Tal laid about him, striking blows and blocking them with almost no thought, letting his swordsman's instincts take over. Part of his mind tried to apprehend the chaos around him, but he just didn't seem able to make sense of what was happening.

A big mercenary with a scar shouted in rage and leapt at him, bas.h.i.+ng him in the face with his s.h.i.+eld. Tal reeled backwards and fell, feeling sudden pain in his back. He rolled to his right as he realized he had fallen upon a smouldering hunk of wood, still red hot, and had been burned on his left shoulder blade. He flipped up onto his feet, his sword at the ready, and saw the scar-faced mercenary lying on his stomach, John Creed pulling his sword from the man's side. ”John!” shouted Tal, and the mercenary ducked and turned just in time to avoid another raider's blade.

Tal pushed forward between Creed and an Orodon warrior and killed the man who had almost taken Creed by surprise.

Then he was once more a.s.sailed by the sounds of battle-metal clanging, grunts of exertion, cries of pain and frustration, curses and inarticulate shouts of anger. The air was thick with the reek of blood, faeces, urine, smoke, and sweat.

Then the madness seemed to double as the Orodon women ran out of their hiding-places, falling onto the enemy archers as they entered the compound. The archers were forced to drop their bows and draw their swords, and in that moment the women seized the advantage. Ignoring their lack in weapons skill, they hurled themselves at the archers, swarming down a half dozen of them who died from the thrusts of daggers, kitchen knives, pokers or whatever else came to hand. One woman dispatched a raider with a bone knitting needle driven into his eye. She clawed his belt-knife from his fingers, and turned to leap upon another raider.

The balance turned. Tal stepped back and for a moment saw everything as if it were a still painting, and he were studying it in detail. Four Orodon bowmen still survived and they were firing down from the battlements, taking care to pick off raiders who were at the edges of the conflict. The core of Raven's men wavered, held at bay by Tal's line while those behind were being swarmed by the women. The villagers had the advantage in numbers for the first time. Behind all of this, Tal saw something that made his eyes widen. Two of the boys sent with the younger children into the woods had returned, calmly picked up bows dropped by the archers and were now shooting arrows into the backs of the men engaged in grappling with the women.

Tal sensed that this was the moment he had been waiting for. ”Charge them!” he shouted, and leapt into the fray.

He killed two men with a side-to-side attack, and suddenly the raiders were attempting to flee. ”Kill them all!” he shouted, as much to frighten the invaders as to release all the anger harboured against these men since the death of his own people.

Hacking downward, he severed the hand from a man about to strike out at a woman who was on top of another enemy. The raider stared in disbelief for an instant as blood fountained from his severed forearm, then shock and pain struck him and he fell to his knees, clutching his wounded arm. Tal cut him across the base of his neck with a quick flick of his blade, and the man collapsed like a wet rag-doll, all the life drained out of him in a moment.

Tal kicked hard against the back of the leg of a man who turned away from him, causing him to stumble, throwing him off-balance and forcing him to drop his s.h.i.+eld, which allowed an Orodon warrior an opening in which to kill him.

For a moment, Tal was almost overwhelmed by three raiders who all turned to confront him at once so that he had to furiously parry three blows in blinding succession; but then the man on his left was struck from behind, the man on his right took an arrow in the shoulder, and once he faced the man in the centre, Tal quickly dispatched him.

Dodging through the melee, he struck at two more men, missing one and turning himself around for an instant. He started to move to his left, for he had overbalanced and had an enemy behind him.

Detecting movement out of the corner of his left eye, he turned. Something exploded in his face and the world turned a brilliant flash of yellow, then red. Then everything went dark.