Part 48 (1/2)

The peaks to the east lit as if painted with fire. The mists of Baenn-iolair bled down her flanks and hung over Baenn-an-ratha in gaudy tatters. Still. It was too still on the mountainside, as if all things held their breath.

On the battlements Catahn Hageswode watched as a strange mist rose from down-slope and crept toward them-mist that didn't behave like mist. It billowed in the breezeless air, curled and fanned and obscured whatever might lie beyond it. Cover, Catahn realized. Cover for an attack. He summoned his lieutenants silently to preparation. A scent reached him, spicy, woody.

Smoke, yes, but unnatural. Vaguely, he could feel the force behind it-a tickling on his skin, a p.r.i.c.kling at the back of his neck.

Ready, ready, he thought to his men. Be ready.

He glanced over his shoulder at the face of the fortress rising from the court, at the window of the Great Hall high in the facade. Taminy was there. He could see her only as a shadow against the thick gla.s.s. He could sense her as a flame, warm at his back. Reason enough to fight. Reason enough to die.

He turned back to the creeping smoke. It was below them now, had obscured the gate of Airdnasheen, rendered her empty houses and streets invisible. It rolled across the sloping access to Hrofceaster, spread east and west, blotting out the grove of Catahn's Crask-an-duine, the spring-fed mountain stream, the lonely stands of trees around and between. Concealing the ground, the sky . . . the enemy. It surrounded them and began to climb the walls. As the false mist flowed over Hrofceaster's battlements and into her forecourt, Catahn fought the tightness in his throat and took up his bow.

The a.s.sault came with lightning speed on the tips of flaming arrows and crossbow bolts. Pinned below the lip of her battlements, Hrofceaster's defenders could only await a cessation in the rain of weaponry.

There was none. Wave after wave of artillery rolled over them, preventing all but the most limited response. Catahn knelt in a narrow niche and brought his bow up, arrow notched. There was yet nothing to fire at, and now he heard someone cry out from the forecourt that a fire had sprung up there.

Chill clutched at his heart. If the arrows continued to fall, extinguis.h.i.+ng the fires they caused could be impossible.

Above and behind him from within Hrofceaster's Great Hall, Taminy saw Feich's s.h.i.+eld of smoke as the aislinn-molded thing it was.

”Feel it?” she asked. ”Feel the aidan behind it-within it?”

Arrayed around her, eyes on the lead-crystal windows of the big room, the waljan did indeed feel the presence behind the heavy billows that pressed against the panes.

”How?” Wyth Arundel asked, shaking his head. ”How can a man like Feich have such a powerful Gift? I never sensed this in him before Cyne Colfre's death. Did you?”

Taminy shook her head. ”I felt . . . something from him, but nothing like this.”

”Yet he Weaves as one fully versed in the Art. He Weaves with the power of someone like Osraed Bevol.”

Skeet, flanking him at the window, murmured, ”He has Aiffe and he has allies.”

Wyth shook his head. ”A crystal is merely a focus. If he had no aidan . . .”

”He could do nothing,” finished Taminy, her eyes never leaving the window.

”Then how has been able to train such a strong Gift in such a short time?”

Taminy shook her head. ”I wish I knew.”

”The Deasach Cwen has the Sight,” observed Desary. ”Father says while you were talking with Feich, he felt her watching us. Watching you. But with Feich, he can sense nothing. It's as if-”

A m.u.f.fled shriek pulled them from their murmured conversation. Eyslk had pulled back from the windows, one hand covering her mouth, the other pointing into the teeming mist.

”Demons!” she cried, voice breaking. ”They send demons in the mist!”

Taminy brought her eyes back to the gla.s.s. Black phantoms with flaming eyes a.s.sailed them. Spreading wings the color of midnight, carrying swords of flame, they hurled themselves against the windows of the Great Hall, rattling the iron frames.

”Oh, Mistress, they can fly!” whimpered Eyslk.

”No. They can't. They can only make us believe they can. There are only arrows set afire. Help me, all of you. Help me disperse the smoke. Catahn's men can't see what they're firing at.”

The room fell silent as they Wove a wind-a cold, relentless wind that rolled down from the crown of Hrofceaster and blew Daimhin Feich's wind back into his face. The hail of arrows did not stop, and now they could see that there were fires in the courtyard. But the enemy no longer had a place to hide. Caught on the shelf of rocky ground beyond Hrofceaster's gates, they were forced to flee or die as the Hillwild and their Claeg reserves at last found targets. The arrow-storm lessened as the enemy was forced to fire from concealment. Less than an hour later, the fires in the court were out, but not without a loss of livestock and fodder.

The battle continued on and off for the rest of the day. By late afternoon, Taminy knew there were casualties on both sides. The knowledge made her weep. Her only comfort was the promise that birth must be accompanied by pain even in the Eibhilin realms. So, she wielded the waljan and their talents like a s.h.i.+eld and wondered what darkness would bring.

”They come.” Lilias Saba's huge, luminous eyes opened, light dancing across them-phantoms of fire and crystal.

Feich nodded, his own eyes on hers. ”Yes, I see them.”

He could see them, slipping through the darkness below Airdnasheen, imagining that they were concealed from him-he smiled-imagining that their Mistress would be the one to greet them.

”They'll try to hide themselves from us in some way, but we will be more clever. We will make hiding impossible.”

He rose, left his tent and the two women who Wove there, and summoned a group of black-clad men to him to issue them their orders. They moved swiftly away toward the empty village.

In a narrow canyon mere miles below Airdasheen, the four travelers were forced to abandon their horses and continue on foot. The night was dark and still and already they could see the telltale glint of enemy fires above them and to the north.

Upward they moved, and southeast toward Airdasheen. Saefren figured on several hours of slow, tedious travel-perhaps a bit less if they were able to slip into the village rather than having to skirt it. He a.s.sumed, as did Aine, that Catahn would have brought the villagers into his stronghold for safety's sake, leaving the place empty. The question was, had Feich taken advantage of that and stationed troops within the village itself?

In a little less than two hours the scarp upon which Airdnasheen sat rose above them, close enough to blot out a good part of the sky. Only by the enemy campfires could they see the lowering mist; Airdnasheen itself was dark and still.

”I'll go up and take a closer look,” Saefren told his companions. ”Wait here; I'll signal.”

”I'll go with you.” That was Aine, of course. ”Then you won't have to signal.”

”Aine, there could be troops up there, hiding.”

”You think you'd have some advantage over them, alone? How well can you Weave a Cloaking inyx, Saefren?” she asked, when his mouth opened to reply.

He grimaced. ”Not very well at all. Fine. I'll be glad of your company, then, since you've offered to make yourself useful.” He turned to Leal and Iseabal. ”Wait here until we see if it's clear.”

They climbed, pus.h.i.+ng through knee-high snow, using rocks and brush for steps and handholds, up the flank of the escarpment until they hunkered among a clump of scrubby pines that grew at the northwest verge of the village. Darkness met them, a darkness so complete they could see nothing of the village buildings save the most ghostly wash of moonlight on the roofs of those closest to them. For some minutes they sat, side by side, listening, watching, waiting. Aine, Saefren was certain, was scanning the place with more than eyes and ears.

He turned to her, leaning his mouth close to her ear. ”Well?”

”It's empty. That is, the Hillwild aren't here, but . . . Something's not right. Someone's here.”

”Feich?”

”No, not Feich. No one with aidan.”

”What do you feel?”

”Fear.” She turned to look at him, her face gleaming like a dim moon. ”I feel fear.”