Lady Knight (15 page)

Outside they heard the shrieks of birds, not sparrows this time, but ravens and jays, dozens of them. Kel didn’t need to speak bird to know they cried an alarm. She raced from the mess hall, sparrows and Jump streaming behind her, headed for the gate. Merric, still half asleep, changed directions as he walked towards the cookhouse and ran with her, fumbling for the sword belt he didn’t have.

Tobe poked his head out of Kel’s window. “Tobe!” shouted Kel. “Sir Merric’s sword!” Tobe vanished.

Merric let Kel precede him up the stairs to the ramparts. Someone thrust her spyglass into her hand.

“Thankyou,” Kel said, and put the glass to her eye. In the east, where the road from Fort Giantkiller emptied into the valley, she saw violent movement.

She turned to the gate trumpeter. “Sound call to arms,” Kel ordered.

As the trumpet’s blast carved the air, a raven soared overhead, coming from inside Haven: Daine. She flew towards the distant struggle, calling out to other ravens nearby. Stormwings also rose from the trees, climbing into the air for a good view.

Kel passed the spyglass to Merric and turned to find Tobe and Loesia waiting by the stair. Tobe carried Merric’s sword, helm and cuirass, panting. Loesia had Kel’s helm and cuirass. Behind them Keon, one of Kel’s other spear trainees, held the glaive.

“Good choice,” Merric informed Tobe, lifting the cuirass over his head and shoulders. “If you’ve got to arm in a hurry, these are what you need first. Would you get those straps on each side?” he asked Tobe. “Yes, good, pull them snug.”

Kel donned her own cuirass and helm. Loesia did up the straps without being asked.

“Kel, I’ll need two squads, I think,” Merric said as he buckled on his sword belt. “And we’d best have a third ready to go in reserve. You’ll take that one?”

Kel nodded. “Sergeants Vidur and Connac?” she called, knowing they’d have come here as soon as they heard the trumpet.

“Here, milady,” they said in unison. All four sergeants had assembled on the walkway over the gate.

“You and your squads are with Sir Merric,” Kel told them.

“Yes, milady,” Connac replied. Boots pounded on the stairs as Merric and the sergeants ran for the horses. She hoped that by now their young stablehands would have a few ready to go, at least.

It’s too soon, all too soon, she thought, her mouth dry. We aren’t ready!

There was no point in fussing now. She heard familiar trumpet calls in the distance: some of the embattled people on the east road were theirs, at least.

“Sergeant Oluf?” she called. He was in charge of her second convict squad.

“Milady?” Oluf and Sergeant Yngvar had remained on the walkway. If Kel’s memory served her, Yngvar was that morning’s watch commander.

“Have your squad arm up and hold themselves ready to ride, Oluf,” Kel ordered.

“Milady, we’re better keeping them on the walls here,” the man protested. “I wouldn’t want them at my back - “

Kel faced him. She didn’t like Oluf any more than she did the other convicts’ sergeant, Vidur. “Sergeant, I didn’t ask you what you did or didn’t want,” she said quietly. “Move.” She said it as she’d heard Raoul give such orders, as if there was no doubt she would be obeyed. Oluf wavered, then went to collect his men.

Neal and Duke Baird came running down the walkway from the stair near headquarters. Neal was buckling on his sword belt. “Just tell me where you want me,” he said, his voice crisp.

“Right here,” Kel replied. “If Merric gets in trouble, I’ll take Oluf s squad to back him up. You’ll be in command.”

“But surely you need me in the field,” her friend protested.

“I need you here. People will obey you.” Neal opened his mouth to argue, but Kel cut him off. “We require a knight on these walls, and I’m not about to risk a healer out there. I’m afraid this time we’ll have a lot more work for you and his grace.” She nodded to Duke Baird.

“I’ll get the infirmary ready,” the duke said immediately “Don’t waste the lady’s time in argument, Neal. Let’s go.”

“Kel,” Neal protested again, a hand on her arm.

“I’ll send Tobe if I have to go,” she said firmly, with a little smile. “Don’t damage the fort, all right?”

Whatever he saw in her eyes, it made him sigh in exasperation. He followed his father back to the infirmary.

“Tobe,” Kel called, raising her voice, “I need Saefas and - “

Someone tugged her right sleeve. It was Tobe. Saefas and Fanche were right behind him, bows in hand. “Get every archer up and spaced evenly on the walls,” Kel ordered them. “If they waste arrows shooting when the enemy’s too far off, I’ll flay them.”

Fanche and Saefas went to rally the civilian archers. Kel chewed on her lower lip, reviewing the most recent dispatches. Under her feet the gate moaned as it opened. This had to be the next lot of refugees from Giantkiller, those who’d come from Anak’s Eyrie.

Merric and his two squads trotted through the gate and down the inclined road. As soon as they were across the Greenwoods River, they spurred their mounts to a gallop. Kel looked around. Civilian archers from Goatstrack and Tirrsmont raced up the stairs to the ramparts, bows in hand. Kel heard raised voices: Idrius was arguing with Saefas, hanging on to the ex-trapper’s arm, though Saefas was plainly trying to get to his post.

“Sergeant Yngvar,” Kel called to the watch commander, the only sergeant left to her, “have two of your men escort Master Valestone to the stocks and lock him in them, immediately.”

“Yes, milady!” the sergeant replied. He clattered down the steps with two of his soldiers.

Kel turned back to the distant conflict, bringing the glass to her eye again. It was hard to wait, seeing the fight, seeing wagons and riders flee across the valley floor, but she had no choice. Until Merric called for help, or until she saw something that meant he would need it, she had to keep her squad back, to defend the walls. If another killing device attacked, they would be needed, even with the metal nets and pickaxes spaced at regular intervals on the wall, against just that event.

The battle moved closer and closer to the Greenwoods River. Merric had rallied his soldiers and any civilians in the train who could fight into a circle around the refugees’ wagons. The Scanrans were mounted and moving quickly, trying to take chunks out of that protective circle. She hoped her people could get ahead of the enemy. She wouldn’t be able to destroy the bridge to prevent a Scanran crossing unless Merric and the refugees could get clear.

A raven perched atop the log palisade. Its beak changed shape until it could say clearly, in Daine’s voice, “There’s Scanrans riding up from the south. They’ll be clear of the trees in a moment.”

Kel told Sergeant Yngvar, “Take your orders from Sir Nealan!” She raced down the stairs to find Oluf s squad, Tobe and Peachblossom waiting. “Mount up,” Kel ordered the soldiers. She passed her glaive to Tobe while she climbed into Peachblossom’s saddle, then reclaimed it. “Tobe, get Neal, tell him he’s needed on the wall.”

The boy raced off. Kel led the soldiers out through the half-open gate at a trot. Squinting at the southern woods, she could just see movement in the trees. There was no point in wondering how the enemy had crept behind the forts and patrols between Haven and the Vassa River. They were here, and she had to persuade them to leave.

Hooves thumped the ground, coming up beside her. Kel risked a glance to her left and saw Numair astride his spotted gelding. “They need you more over there,” she told him, pointing to Merric’s people.

“You need me in the middle,” retorted the mage. He broke away and rode on to a rise in the ground squarely between Kel and Merric.

Screaming battle cries, the enemy in the southern woods charged. Only a third of them were mounted; the rest were foot soldiers. Kel noted the Scanran horseman who appeared to be the leader and gave her convict squad the signal for caution.

Shrieks sounded in her ears as her recently magicked and increased sparrow flock sped by, heading for the enemy. A flash of white caught Kel’s eye on her left: Jump raced forward at the head of a pack of camp dogs.

Well, I said everybody at Haven works, she thought, grimly amused. I guess that means that everybody fights, too.

Fifty yards from the enemy, she signalled her men to form two lines at her back, leaving Kel at the point of their formation. Arrows from the enemy’s archers zipped by them; Kel heard a man grunt. Then she was on the Scanran leader, chopping down with her glaive as she drew alongside. The blond man shoved his axe up in time to block her. Peachblossom swung around, kicking a foot soldier with his hind hooves as he brought Kel into position to charge the Scanran leader again. Her gelding surged forward; Kel levelled her glaive and ran the Scanran through almost as neatly as she had once struck other knights’ shields in tournament jousts. She jerked the blade free. Peachblossom reared and spun; Kel moved with him, her glaive sweeping edge-first to cut down another mounted Scanran. Peachblossom dropped to all fours, landing squarely on a foot soldier’s back.

“You have a mean streak,” Kel murmured as she turned the gelding. She doubted that the man whose spine Peachblossom had just crushed would be getting up.

“Kel,” a familiar voice said in her ear.

“Numair?” she asked, startled, looking around. The mage stood on his rise, well out of earshot. Hands tugged at her leg; Kel slashed the man trying to unseat her across the top of his head. Blinded with blood, he released her.

“Kel, get your people to retreat all together,” Numair’s soft voice urged in her ear.

And that griffin feather band does a lot of good in my belt-pouch. I can’t tell if this is illusion or really Numair, she thought bitterly as she looked for her men. Gil was unhorsed, his mount dead beside him, as he tried to hold off three Scanran foot soldiers with his longsword and round shield. Riding down on Gil’s attackers, Kel thought, I don’t care how silly I look, I’m wearing griffin feather ornaments in my hair from now on.

The sparrows swarmed one of Gil’s foes, gouging his face with their tiny beaks and claws. They formed a cloud around his head, forcing the Scanran away from Gil. lump leaped for a second attacker’s sword arm and clung, powerful jaws locked around the man’s wrist. Gil knocked the Scanran’s other hand, and the axe it held, aside with his shield and thrust in cleanly, his blade slipping between the bronze plaques sewn to a leather jerkin, all the armour his enemy had.

“Fall back!” Kel shouted, pitching her voice so her men could hear over the clamour of battle. She rode down the third Scanran foot soldier. “Fall back in order!” She killed the foot soldier, wrapped the reins around her saddle horn, and reached down to Gil with her free arm. “Behave, Peachblossom,” she told the gelding. Peachblossom glanced back at her; Gil looked at the offered hand, then Peachblossom, and gulped.

“Numair’s up to something,” Kel informed Gil. “Come or stay, but decide fast.”

Gil seized Kel’s hand and let her drag him up behind her. It was shamefully easy. That’s it, thought Kel, I’m making sure these convicts are fed. Once he was settled behind Kel, gripping her belt with both hands, she cried, “Fall back!” Hoisting her glaive, she waved it in a circle, the signal for a retreat. Her soldiers came, some without horses, to form a line on either side of Peachblossom as they moved away from the Scanrans. A pair of Tortallans were down, motionless on the churned and bloody grass.

The enemy stayed put for a moment, panting, gathering their strength to attack once more. Step by step the Tortallan horses and the men on foot backed, weapons ready, putting ground between them and the foe. Kel glanced to her side: Sergeant Oluf swayed in his saddle, blood coursing down one arm.

The earth trembled under Peachblossom, who whickered and pranced. “Stop it!” she ordered. “This is help - I think!”

Stone grated. The land moaned. Several of Kel’s men dropped to their knees, making the sign against evil and muttering prayers. Kel urged Peachblossom over until she could poke the kneeling men with the butt of her glaive. “Up!” she snapped. They lurched to their feet. “When I say fall back, it’s an order, lackwits!” She hoped they didn’t hear the quiver in her voice. The hairs on the nape of her neck and her arms stood. The ground by Numair’s rise sprouted a crack. It raced across the land between him and the Scanrans Kel’s men had just fought. They huddled together in superstitious fear as the ground shook. When the earth opened in a massive yawn under their feet, they pitched into it. The ground snapped shut. Only a bare, narrow strip marked where the original crack had been.

“Why didn’t I take up carpentry, like me ma wanted me to?” whispered one of Kel’s convicts.

“And miss all this adventure?” someone else replied. Kel turned Peachblossom so she could see them. “You act as if you never saw magic before,” she said. “It’s not like he doesn’t do it all the time. Now fall back on the fort in proper order.”

“You heard milady!” Sergeant Oluf forced himself to sit upright in the saddle. “Fall in! What of Laif and Adern?” He pointed at the Tortallans they’d left. “Laif’s throat’s cut,” one of the men replied. “They got Adern clean through the belly,” added someone else. They were all moving now, heading back to the road, the men on horses outside those on foot. Kel listened to them with one ear, trying to see how Merric fared. People approached them on the road, running, driving wagons, riding: civilians all. Merric and his two squads would be protecting their rear, then.

A hand fumbled at one of her saddle fittings to unhook the water flask Kel always carried. Gil popped the cork out with a grimy thumb, letting it hang on its connected string as he offered it to Kel from behind. Her mouth was dry as stone. She gulped at least half of the water before she gave the skin to him.

“Sergeant, we’re going to form line on either side of the road at the bridge,” she said, trying to keep her voice level as the ground nearby began to talk again. “You take four men to the north side of the road. I’ll take the south. Gil - “

“Gone,” the convict said as he slid off Peachblossom. He’d kept his sword.

“But stay with me. You, you, you.” She pointed to three other convict soldiers. “We’ll hold the road on this side. Sergeant?”