From Darkness Won (75 page)

Four other Ebens circled to Achan’s right. Achan turned, watching them. Shung stood ready behind Achan, and Cole— covered in gleaming silver armor—clutched the Armonguard standard, his eyes peeled wide through the slot in his helm.

Stay back, Cole
, Achan told him.

Three of the Ebens ran at Shung. Apparently, they found Shung the bigger threat. Achan couldn’t blame them. Shung expertly deflected each jab.

The last Eben clutched a club the size of Achan’s leg. He swung high. Achan kept his shield at middle guard, flinching as the wood arced toward his face. But as he hoped, the Eben reversed his swing and batted at his legs. Achan shifted his
s
hield into low guard in time for the club to beat against it. Achan hacked over the top of his shield. His blade just missed the Eben’s elbow.

The giant swung for Achan’s legs again. Achan lifted his shield, expecting this to be a feint, but the blow stung his legs through his armor.

Achan stumbled and turned in time to block a spear thrust at his face. Another spear slid across the back of his neck. He rammed his shield against one spear, parried a jab from another, and raked his blade against the club on his backswing.

The Ebens were trying to separate them. Achan needed to get back with Shung. He lashed out and cleaved for his attacker’s legs. The Eben staggered, tripped over a fallen body, and fell onto his rear. He raised his shield over his head. Achan circled him, raining blows like an axe on a log. Splinters of wood and paint went flying. Three of Achan’s soldiers ran up and relieved him, so Achan sidestepped back to Shung and waved Cole to follow.

Sir Caleb’s voice boomed in Achan’s inner ear.
Do not engage unless you must. We must get inside the watchtower, for that is where the wielders will be.

And Lord Nathak. His half-brother.

Go, Little Cham, now!
Shung yelled as he finished the last of the three Ebens.
To Manu.

Achan ran toward Manu’s dark hair and red cape. And the line was moving again. It lost form as they tried to pass through another melee. Manu stopped to deflect a blow. A man shrieked. Achan darted around Manu, safely out of the arc of his cousin’s sword. He peeked at the tower just as a green orb sailed toward him. He leapt back, knocking into Shung. The fireball thudded into the grass, sending singed grass, soil, and silent tendrils of smoke into the air.

Shung gripped Achan’s arm and tugged.
This way.

Achan followed Shung through a gap in the fighting. As they neared the tower, the enemy defense came into view. A wall of rectangular shields and mantlets circled the bottom of the tower. They were decorated with three black stripes or painted gowzals. All had a slot or hole of some kind at the top. Arrows and balls of green fire flew out from those openings. An occasional boulder sailed over the top.

Achan lifted his shield to his nose.
They’ve got mangonels, Sir Caleb. They’re hurling stones.

I see that. Where are you?

Shung and I are straight out from the entrance. We need a way past the blockade.

See if the duchess can aid us. I’ll gather the men to you.

Agreed.
A boulder flew through the air straight at Achan. With no time to dodge it, he crouched and braced his shield. The rock hit, though not with the force he’d expected. He peeked over his shield to see a man’s head rolling away.

A jolt of nausea gripped him. He closed his eyes and focused on Duchess Amal’s pleasant face.
My lady? We could use your assistance.

An enemy soldier charged. Achan pushed to his feet and raised his sword, but Shung darted forward and met the attack. Achan turned in a quick circle and saw only Sir Caleb and a handful of his squad approaching.

Duchess Amal’s voice filled his ears then, music to his anxious soul.
How can I be of service, Your Highness?

If Sir Eagan can spare you, we need help accessing the watchtower. They’ve barricaded us out.

I see it. I will take out the men at the entrance. Be ready.

Sir Caleb reached Achan’s side, panting. “What news?”

“She’s attacking now. We must be ready to charge.”

Sir Caleb gathered the men into three lines. The center line consisted of Sir Caleb, Bran, Cortland, Achan, Shung, and Toros. “We all charge together. The outer lines protect the center. Once the center enters the watchtower, do what you can to take the shields and guard the door.”

Now, Your Highness!
Duchess Amal said.

“Now!” Achan yelled.

The men charged, shields before them, swords ready. They met no resistance, thanks to Duchess Amal’s storming, and Achan’s line ran inside the tower and up the stairs. Sir Caleb, Bran, Cortland, Achan, then the rest. Shadows on the wall preceded three New Kingsguard knights coming down from above.

Like all towers, the stairs rose on the left, circling to the right. This gave the defender the advantage as his right arm faced the outer wall. Sir Caleb struggled a moment as his blade was obstructed by the center pillar. He switched his sword to his left hand and pressed upward. Achan already held Ôwr in his left hand.

But the narrow stairs allowed for no more than one battle at a time. And when Sir Caleb managed to fell one opponent, only Sir Caleb was able to meet the next. There was nothing the others could do but wait.

Sir Caleb killed the second man and stepped over his body to meet the third.

An external force shook the tower. Sir Caleb’s opponent stumbled and slid down a few steps on his back, his plate armor gliding over the stone. Sir Caleb darted aside and bashed his boot against the man’s head as he went by. Shung finished him off.

The tower shook again. This time the wall cracked at an arrow loop, right where Achan stood.

A snakelike head bashed through the wall, sending bits of whitestone and dust over the stairwell. It knocked Bran down, curled up the stairwell and snapped at Sir Caleb, then swung back, pushed over Cortland and Manu, and screeched.

A tanniyn!

The creature’s breath was a hot putrid wind in Achan’s face. He cowered against the central pillar, hiding behind his shield.
 
Duchess! The tanniyn!

The tanniyn’s next screech was laced with pain. Achan peeked over his shield to see Shung wrench his sword out from the creature’s neck. The tanniyn bashed its head into the steps above, then smashed down through the steps the men stood on. Whitestone steps crumbled underfoot. Cortland fell down the new hole. Manu tumbled down the stairs. The tanniyn nipped at Achan’s shield, then hissed, its maw open wide.

Hold on, Your Highness!
Duchess Amal said.

Achan wanted to strike, but the beast’s mouth pressed the shield so tightly against the pillar he could not move, its breath a rotten puff of air. Sir Caleb grabbed one of the creature’s fangs and yanked its head away from Achan. Shung stabbed the tanniyn’s neck again, and it drew back from the hole like a coil of rope. Sir Caleb went with it, still gripping its fang.

“No!” Achan dropped his weapons and grabbed Sir Caleb’s leg. His grip slid down to Sir Caleb’s boot, paused, then tugged free. Achan fell against the pillar, clutching Sir Caleb’s boot.
Duchess! The tanniyn has Sir Caleb!

I see him
, the duchess said.

Achan couldn’t move. He stared through the dusty air at the hole in the tower wall but could see nothing but Darkness. He waited for Duchess Amal to speak again, but she did not.

Averella paced, studying the broken sentry wall. The interior edge appeared solid, though it was only as wide as her foot in several places. She should go back to Sir Eagan and the gatehouse. Instead, she sheathed her sword and stepped toward the jagged edge of the sentry wall.

Someone needed to stop Khai. She had done it once. She could do it again.

She threaded her shield over her head and arm so that it hung off her back. She stepped carefully, arms outstretched to help her balance. She had walked the pine log fence at the Rennan home many times. This was no different. Except that she could not see her feet through the tiny slot in her helm. She took it off and left it on the sentry walk. She would have to survive without it.

Her first few steps were scoots, keeping her feet on the stone. Once her courage was bolstered, she moved her right foot in front of her left. Her top-heavy armor and shield pulled her forward faster than she wanted to move. Control slipped away. She ran the last steps before diving onto the sentry walk.

Her armor scraped over the stone. She lay prostrate, panting. Once her lungs strengthened, she pushed to her feet and jogged down the sentry walk toward the watchtower.

She rounded two scallops and had started out on the long section of wall that circled the watchtower when she spotted Khai sitting against the battlement on the narrow curve. He
f
aced the tower, eyes closed. Gowzals fluttered over his head, squawking. Had someone killed him?

She slowed her steps and drew her sword, hoping to sneak up on him, if possible.

A great cry brought Averella to the crenellation. She looked over the side just as a tanniyn rose from the lake, its neck curled like a ringlet. Averella crouched as it sailed over her and rammed its skull halfway up the tower.

The sentry wall under Averella’s knees shook. Water rained off the creature onto her head. She pressed against the battlement and watched the tanniyn pull back and ram the tower again. This time its head broke through. Bricks of whitestone and dust fell to the bailey below. A man inside screamed. The creature’s long neck writhed.

A haunting thought gripped Averella: Achan’s squad was assigned to the watchtower.

She stood, legs trembling, and inched toward the place where the beast’s neck rested between two merlons. She didn’t have the strength to sever its head, so she drew back her sword and stabbed.

The creature’s screech chilled her arms. She tried to wrench her blade free, but it was stuck. She braced her feet against the battlement and pulled with all her weight. The beast shifted. The sword’s grip ripped from her hand, snagged on a merlon, then snapped the merlon off, as the tanniyn slithered backwards.

Averella dropped to her stomach and peeked at the tower. The beast drew back from the hole, writhing, a man in its mouth.

Merciful heart! Arman, help him!

The serpent’s neck retracted over the crenellation, knocking the man free before it sank out of sight.

The man dropped onto Averella’s legs and rolled off. She twisted to see him draw onto his hands and knees then collapse, gasping in deep breaths of air. Averella crawled to his side and pulled off his helm. A thatch of frizzy blond hair puffed out.

“Sir Caleb!”

He groaned, and his eyes fluttered until his gaze settled onto hers. “My lady?”

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” Yet his body slumped unconscious.

Averella!
Her mother’s voice made her jump.
What are you doing here? You were to stay with Sir Eagan.

I have to stop Khai. He is just ahead of me on the sentry walk. Can you see into his mind?

I am uncertain who Khai is—wait. The man sitting near you? He is the tanniyn’s wielder. I just stormed him. Kill his body before he gets back to it.