Hidden Warrior (53 page)

Bodies lay rotting in every street, too many for the dead carriers to deal with. Perhaps they were all dead, too. Tobin shuddered as they passed a sow and her young pulling the body of a young girl to pieces. Everywhere he looked, the living stepped around the dead as if they were piles of garbage. Even with the cold wind, the stench was sickening.

“If the Plenimarans don’t get us, the pox will!” Ki muttered, clapping a hand across his mouth.

A ragged woman knelt keening over the body of her pox-raddled child, but looked up as they passed. “You are cursed, Erius son of Agnalain, and all your house! You’ve brought Illior’s curse down on this land!”

Tobin looked away quickly as a soldier raised a club to silence her. Erius gave no sign that he’d heard, but Tobin saw Korin flinch.

The streets near the east gate were nearly impassable,
choked with panicked people, carts, and crazed animals of all sorts. Erius’ guard swept ahead with truncheons to clear the way.

At the walls, however, they found men, women, even children ready to repel the invaders. The tops of the walls and towers were lined with men, but there too they were thinly spread. As Tobin watched, a few enemy soldiers gained the top and were savagely repelled. Arrows hissed overhead, and some found their mark. Skalan warriors tumbled down to join the heaps of dead and dying below.

“Look,” said Ki, pointing to a pile of bodies. Two dead Plenimarans lay tangled with the others. They both wore black tunics over their mail, and had long black hair and braided beards. It was the first time either of them had actually seen a Plenimaran.

“To the walls!” Erius shouted, dismounting and brandishing his sword again.

“With me, Companions!” Korin cried, and Tobin and the others followed him up the shuddering wooden stairs to the hoardings above.

From here, Tobin could look down through the arrow slits and murder holes at the seething mass of fighters below. The Skalan defenders hurled stones down at them and dumped buckets of hot oil and tar, but it did no more than create a temporary gap in the press. The Plenimarans had already set up hundreds of square wooden mantlets to shelter their archers, and they kept up a steady hail of arrows from there. At the gate below, a sappers’ shed had been moved up against the doors and Tobin heard the dull, steady rhythm of a battering ram crew at work.

Shoulder to shoulder with Ki and Tharin, Tobin raised his bow and took aim at the forces swarming below. When their arrows were spent, they helped dump stones through the murder holes and push off scaling ladders. Some still made it up, however, and they found themselves running endlessly to beat them back. Ki was still beside him, and Tobin caught glimpses of some of the other boys, but as
the battle went on they got separated from them among the other defenders. Tobin lost sight of Korin but even in the worst of it, Tharin and Ki were there at his back.

It all seemed to go on forever. They gathered what arrows they could and shot back, and used long poles to push off more scaling ladders. Tobin and Ki had just finished with another one, sending half a dozen men falling back onto their comrades, when an arrow struck the cheek guard of Tobin’s helm. He staggered and a second hit his right shoulder, bruising him through the mail and padding. Ki and Tharin pulled him to cover in a hoarding.

“How bad is it?” Tharin asked, ripping back the torn sleeve of Tobin’s surcoat.

Before Tobin could tell him that it was nothing, a catapult stone shattered the wooden wall a few feet from where they stood and they were all thrown to their knees.

An instant later a huge roar erupted to their left and the stone parapet shuddered beneath them. Screams rang out and men came stampeding past, shouting, “They’ve broken through!”

Leaping up, Tobin looked out through an arrow slit and saw a heap of shattered stone and wood where the gates had been. Enemy soldiers were pouring through.

“That’s necromancers’ work,” Tharin gasped. “The ramming crew was only a decoy!”

Caliel and Korin ran past. “Zusthra’s dead, and Chylnir!” Caliel cried, as Tobin and his men followed.

A few yards on they found Lynx crouched over Orneus, trying to shield his fallen friend from being trampled. Both of them were bloody. A black-fletched arrow had struck Orneus in the throat. His head lolled and his eyes were blank and fixed. Lynx threw his own helmet aside and tried to lift him.

“Leave him, he’s dead!” Korin ordered as he passed.

“No!” Lynx cried.

“You can’t help him!” yelled Tharin. Hauling the sobbing
squire to his feet, he clapped the helmet back on his head and shoved him into a trot in front of him.

Fighting their way through another mass of men, they found General Rheynaris kneeling beside the king. Erius’ helm was gone and blood flowed from a gash across his brow, but he was alive and furious. As Korin reached him he staggered to his feet and pushed the others away. “It’s nothing, damn you! Get away from me and do your duty. They’ve broken through! Korin, take your men down the stair near Water Street and outflank the bastards. Get down there, all of you, and drive them back!”

Water Street was empty when they reached it and they stopped to take stock of who was left. Tobin saw with alarm that Lutha and Nikides weren’t with them.

“I lost sight of them about an hour ago,” Urmanis told them, leaning on Garol. His right arm hung useless in a makeshift sling.

“I saw them just before the gates went down,” said Alben. “They were with Zusthra.”

“Oh hell! Caliel, did you see them?” Ki asked.

“No, but if they were anywhere beyond where I last saw him—” Caliel trailed off hoarsely.

Tharin, Melnoth, and Porion took count and found they had fewer than forty men accounted for. Tobin looked anxiously around at his guardsmen and was glad to find most of them still with him. Koni gave him a weary salute.

“There’s no time to worry about the missing now,” Captain Melnoth said. “What are your orders, Prince Korin?”

“Don’t worry,” Tharin murmured to Tobin. “If Nikides and Lutha are alive, they’ll find us.”

“Prince Korin, what are your orders?” Melnoth asked again.

Korin stared toward the sound of fighting, saying nothing.

Porion moved to the prince’s side. “Your orders, my prince.”

Korin turned and Tobin read fear plain in his cousin’s
eyes. This must be what Ahra had seen during that first raid. Korin looked imploringly at Porion. Melnoth turned away to hide his look of dismay.

“Prince Korin, I know this part of the city,” Tharin told him. “We’d do best to go through that alley over there to Broad Street and see if we can pick off any scouting parties they send our way.”

Korin nodded slowly. “Yes—yes, we’ll do that.”

Ki shot Tobin a worried look as they drew their swords and followed.

They encountered two small scouting groups and managed to kill most of them, but as they headed back toward the gates they were nearly overrun by a huge force running through the streets with torches, setting everything in their path ablaze. There was no choice but to run.

“This way!” Korin yelled, dashing up a side street.

“No, not that way!” shouted Tharin, but the prince was already gone. They had no choice but to follow.

Rounding a corner, they found themselves cornered in a small market square. No other streets let out from it, and several of the surrounding buildings were already in flames. Dashing through the nearest doorway, they took cover in an inn, only to find that more flames blocked the sole exit in the back.

Tobin ran to the front of the house and peered out through a broken shutter. “Oh hell, Kor, we’re trapped!”

The enemy had followed them. There were at least sixty men outside, talking among themselves in their coarse, guttural tongue. Several were advancing with torches to set the inn afire; as Tobin and the others watched, they threw the brands onto the roof. Archers stood ready to shoot anyone who tried to escape out the front.

“We’ll have to fight our way through,” said Ki.

“There are too many!” Korin snapped. “It’s madness to go out there.”

“And it’s death if we stay here,” Porion told him. “If we
put your guard in the forefront and Prince Tobin’s behind, we might be able to rush them.” He gave them a grim smile. “This is what I trained you for, boys.”

There was little hope and they all knew it, but they formed up quickly, with the Companions massed around Korin. Everyone looked scared, except Lynx, who hadn’t spoken since they’d come off the walls. Clutching his sword, he saw Tobin watching him and made him a slight bow, as if to say farewell.

Tobin caught Ki’s eye and did the same, but Ki just set his jaw stubbornly and shook his head. Behind them, Tharin muttered what sounded like, “I’m sorry,” as he rubbed the smoke from his eyes.

“On your order, Prince Korin,” whispered Melnoth.

Tobin was proud to see that Korin did not falter as he raised his hand to give the signal.

Before they could throw the doors open, however, they heard an outcry in the yard, then screams of pain.

Rushing back to the windows, they saw Plenimaran soldiers writhing on the ground, engulfed by blue-white flame. It spread to any who tried to help them, and the rest were already scattering in panic.

“The Harriers!” Korin exclaimed.

Tobin had guessed the same but saw only a few ragged-looking people running away down the alley. Then a lone figure stepped from the shadows into the red light. “Prince Tobin, are you there?”

It was Iya.

“I’m here!” he called back.

“It’s safe for the moment, but we’d best hurry,” she called.

Melnoth grabbed his arm as he started for the door. “You know her?”

“Yes. She was a friend of my father. She’s a wizard,” he added, as if it needed any explanation.

Iya bowed low to Korin as they came out. “Are you hurt, Highness?”

“No, thank you.”

Tobin stared down at the charred, twisted corpses around the yard. “I—I didn’t know you could do—”

“I had a bit of help. They’ve gone on to see what else they can do to halt the invaders. I fear there’s little hope, though. Prince Korin, your father was wounded and carried back to the Palatine. I suggest you join him there at once. Come, I know a safe route. The Plenimarans haven’t broken through to the upper wards yet.”

N
ight was coming on and a cold drizzle soaked them as they trudged toward the Palatine. A heavy lethargy stole over Tobin, and the other boys were silent, too. It went beyond exhaustion or hunger. They’d all looked Bilairy in the face at that inn; if it hadn’t been for Iya and her mysterious helpers, they’d all be roasting in the embers.

Their way was blocked here and there by rough barricades—carts, furniture, chicken coops, scraps of lumber—anything the panicked defenders had been able to lay their hands on. In one street they were forced to crawl under a cartload of pox victims.

It was quiet here, but there had been fighting. Men of both armies lay dead in the streets, and Tobin saw several Harrier wizards and guards among the dead.

“I didn’t think you could kill them!” Alben exclaimed, giving a dead wizard a wide berth.

“You can kill most wizards easily enough.” Iya paused and held her hand over what remained of the dead man’s face. After a moment she shook her head contemptuously. “Most of these white-robes are just bullies who’ve learned to hunt in packs. They intimidate and torture those weaker than themselves like wolves chasing down a sick deer. They’re good for little else.”

“You’re speaking treason, Mistress,” Korin warned. “I tell you that as someone who owes you his life, but you must be careful.”

“Forgive me, my prince.” Iya tapped the numbered
brooch at her throat. “I know better than you how dangerous it is to speak against your father’s wizards. I’ll presume once more, though, and tell you that his fears are misplaced. The wizards and priests who’ve died were as loyal to Skala as you or I. We’re fighting for Ero even now. I hope you’ll remember that later on.”

Korin gave her a curt nod, but said nothing.

The upper wards were untouched, but from their vantage point Tobin could see that much of the lower city was burning, the flames spread by the marauders and the wind.

As the Palatine gate came into sight ahead of them Iya motioned for Ki to go on ahead and drew Tobin aside. “Keep close to your friends,” she whispered. “Your hour is coming and this is the sign. The Afran Oracle showed me, though I did not understand at the time. Keep the doll with you. Don’t be parted from it!”

Tobin swallowed hard. “It’s at the keep.”

“What? Tobin, what possessed you—”

“My mother took it back.”

Iya shook her head. “I see. I’ll do what I can, then.” She looked around quickly, then whispered, “Keep Koni by you at all costs. Don’t let him out of your sight, do you hear?”

“Koni?” The young fletcher was one of Tobin’s favorites among his guard, but Iya had never shown any interest in the man before.

“I have to leave you now. Remember all I’ve said.” And she was gone, as if the earth had swallowed her.

“Iya?” Tobin whispered, looking around in alarm. “Iya, I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know what to do!”

But she was gone and some of the others were looking back at him, wondering why he’d lagged behind. Tobin ran to catch up.

“Funny, her showing up like that just when she was needed, and gone just as fast, eh?” said Ki.

“There you are!” Koni exclaimed, falling in beside them. Tobin wanted to ask if Iya had spoken to him, too,
but didn’t dare with so many others listening. “I lost you once down there on the walls. I don’t mean to again.”

“Or me,” said Tharin, looking more haggard than Tobin had ever seen him. “That was a bad moment, back there.” He shot a quick look at Korin and lowered his voice. “Keep your eye on me during the next fight.”

“I will.” It still hurt to think ill of Korin, but he’d seen it for himself this time, the hesitation Ahra had spoken of. It had nearly cost them their lives.

H
ow is my father?” Korin demanded of the guards at the Palatine gate.

“Wounded, my prince,” the sergeant told him. “He sent word to tell you that he’s in the summer pavilion near the temple. You’re to go to him at once.”