Gwaynn nodded and moved off to Krys. Sath approached from the west having crossed the river on the far side of the bridge. He nodded to Gwaynn, and within moments they had a force of nearly five hundred horses. They turned and charged into the town as the last of the Toranado troops cleared the bridge.
There were only two clear routes running north and south through Manse. The main road, which cut directly through the center of town before winding north all the way to Cape, and a narrow snaking side road which picked its way through town farther to the east before eventually breaking out and heading toward Lynndon. Most of the cavalry, including Gwaynn and his closest companions rode directly up the main route. And though Gwaynn tried to lead, he was soon forced to drop back by the uncontrollable mass of horses and men.
Opposition was non-existent, no armed soldiers, and no bow fire from the surrounding buildings. But Gwaynn did not become concerned until they were nearly half way through the town.
“Krys!” he yelled to his friend who was slightly behind him. He yelled again, trying to be overheard among the pounding of the horses and screaming of the men around him. He put out his hands in a signal for those around him to slow down, Bock, who was again riding nearby quickly understood and mirrored Gwaynn’s efforts, but it took nearly two hundred yards before a large enough group joined him in slowing their charge. Krys and Sath were among them, slowing up from behind.
“Trap!” Sath yelled, and as if that were the signal, black smoke and flame appeared directly in front of the cavalry that had continued to pound on ahead.
“They’re firing the town,” Krys said as panicked horses snorted and reared at the smell of fire. If the Deutzani had placed a dozen archers on the surrounding buildings it would have been a slaughter, but thankfully they had not, and after several moments Gwaynn and the others were able to turn those behind them and then they quickly headed back the way they’d come.
The fire, fueled by oil, dry wood and wind, quickly raged completely out of control, engulfing buildings and racing after the Massi at an alarming rate. Almost immediately innocent townsfolk poured from the false safety of the buildings and out into the street, clogging the way. Men, women and children joined the screaming, panicked horses, and complete bedlam quickly broke out all around them all. Gwaynn and his group were separated in the confusion as they forced their way through the crowd, trying to outrace the fire which was coming after them far too quickly.
“It’s no use!” Krys yelled, panic and despair creeping into his voice as he looked back over his shoulder. They could now feel the heat from the flames on their backs. People were everywhere, some running and some falling and being trampled by human and horses alike. Gwaynn pulled Eve sharply to the left in order to avoid a young girl of eight or nine, her dirty face was wet with tears and her eyes were wide with fear as she huddled on the ground near a water trough.
“Girl!” Gwaynn yelled and held out a hand. She hesitated for a moment too long and Gwaynn was swept by with the tide.
“My Prince!” Bock yelled from the far side of the road. “Gwaynn! To me!”
Gwaynn nodded and with the help of Krys and Sath forced his way over to Bock, though they were still being carried south down the main thoroughfare, caught in the stream of panic.
“We need to veer off,” Bock said.
Gwaynn agreed but looked back in any case. The fire now filled the sky, the flames rising over a hundred feet in the air.
“Follow me,” Bock yelled and quickly pulled his mount down a narrow alley. Gwaynn coughed as a wave of thick smoke billowed past and then he coaxed Eve after his Captain, hoping that Bock knew what he was doing. Krys, Sath and a host of other riders followed. They were now moving parallel to the path of the fire, which was very hazardous indeed.
Bock led them from one narrow alley to another, sometimes going south away from the fire and sometimes east. The heat was growing alarmingly when they finally broke out and found the winding road that ran north and south through the town. Mercifully it was nearly empty but when they emerged from a narrow alley the heat hit them all like a hammer. The fire was only a block to the south and roaring so loudly that any attempt to talk was pointless.
Bock did not pause but spurred his mount to the south away from the fire. The horses needed very little additional persuading to increase their speed. Soon they were galloping swiftly down the narrow road, occasionally passing townsfolk hurrying in the same direction. Gwaynn encouraged everyone they met to hurry, but did not stop to help. His worry shifted once more from survival to the battle. His cavalry was scattered with who knew how many lost. He only hoped that the Toranado foot soldiers had not been caught in a similar trap.
“Stop!” Krys yelled and swerved in front of them, forcing them all to abruptly pull up. The fire was no longer hot, but it was still roaring loudly behind them, thick black smoke now blotted out the sun making the early morning feel more like late evening.
“Emm…” Krys said by way of explanation. “Where’s Taylor’s?” he asked Bock, but the older man just shook his head.
“It’s too far back…and on the main road,” he answered and gestured to the north and west.
“I’m going after her!” Krys yelled above the roar of the fire, his face set with determination. Gwaynn looked at his friend, feeling for him, but knowing racing back to Taylor’s was not the way.
“You won’t make it,” Bock said quickly checking on the fire. “If she’s smart she’s already gone in any case.”
“Krys,” Gwaynn said loudly. “She’ll make her way to the river with the rest. We will look for her there.”
Krys was about to rebel, but reason and the growing heat of the fire finally overcame his emotions and he dropped his head in agreement.
“Come,” Bock said and they were soon rushing away to the south once more and within minutes broke free of the main buildings of the town. All along its banks, people, soldiers and horses were scrambling into the Scar River and making their way slowly to the far side. Gwaynn glanced to the west and saw that the bridge was packed with people and was gratified to see that the majority of the Toranado heavy infantry were already back on the southern side of the river. He instinctively looked to the right flank and Samantha but her position was obscured by smoke.
“Taylor! Taylor!” Krys shouted and spurred his horse closer to the river. The elderly innkeeper, who was fighting his way west toward the bridge with his wife, stopped and turned.
“M’lord,” Taylor said, instantly recognizing the tall youth riding up to him, and just behind the Prince of Massi.
“M’lord,” Taylor repeated to Gwaynn and bowed slightly.
“Emm! Taylor where’s Emm?” Krys asked excitedly, frowning as Taylor shook his head.
“She warn’t at the hotel,” Maybel piped up. “She was probably down at Lonogan’s with those new friends of hers.”
“Lonogan’s,” Krys repeated, and Taylor nodded once more.
“With a brother and sister…bad news, the sister being raped and all,” Taylor finally piped up. “Didn’t like her much, but rape is a bad thing for anyone to live with.”
“Raped?” Gwaynn asked.
“By Deutzani soldiers,” Maybel answered. “She may not‘ve deserved it, but she was asking for it, looking as she does.”
Krys, however, was not waiting and turned his mount immediately and began to follow the river farther east and after a moment of indecision Gwaynn turned to Sath.
“Take these men and check on the bridge,” he said quickly. “Make sure we hold both sides.”
His old master grunted then looked back at the approaching fire. “Don’t dally,” he advised then spurred his horse toward the river crossing. Gwaynn watched him and his group of twenty or so cavalrymen as they rode off through the smoke then turned to Bock.
“Shall we check on your lumberyard?”
Lonogan grinned. “Not the place you’d want to be in a fire, but by all means lead the way,” and together they raced after
Krys catching him after a few minutes.
Lonogan’s mill was only about a mile down river but it took nearly fifteen minutes to reach it. The river was lined with soldiers and civilians either moving down into the water or else fighting their way along the riverbank toward the bridge. The lumber mill was situated directly next to the river and perhaps a quarter of a mile outside the extreme east side of town. It was not in any immediate danger from the raging fire which seemed to be swallowing the rest of the town whole. Gwaynn paused outside the building and again checked the right flank up on the plateau, but could see nothing. The flames and smoke were being pushed to the west with the shifting wind.
“Your mill may be safe,” Gwaynn commented to Bock as he dismounted.
Bock frowned and checked the wind. “If my luck holds only the town I supply will be razed to the ground, and perhaps most of my customers killed!”
“The town will be needing a lot of lumber.”
Bock’s face lit up as Lee Brandt emerged from the mill followed by nearly two dozen other people. Gwaynn dismounted and the rest followed suit.
“Maybe you’re right,” Bock answered. “I could be rich…if I live that long.”
Gwaynn saw that Emm was among those exiting the mill, and though Krys had raced headlong through a burning town to reach her, now he seemed reluctant to approach anywhere near. Gwaynn rolled his eyes, but he understood how his friend felt and walked over close to him for moral support.
“Sire,” Brandt said and held out a large hand to shake. Gwaynn raised an eyebrow and Brandt barked out a laugh, moved forward and took his Prince’s hand in his own. He pumped it hard but did not squeeze very tightly. Gwaynn smiled at the large man who moved on to greet Krys and his boss.
“Emm,” Gwaynn said greeting the young woman, who was partially hidden behind the big man. Emm curtsied gracefully and it was then that Gwaynn noticed the beauty that was waiting over the girl’s left shoulder. The woman was tall and fit, with large dark eyes, flawless skin and her jet-black hair curled in natural ringlets. She smiled and Gwaynn’s heart did a little flip at her uncommon beauty.
“Sire,” Emm answered and rose to her full height, she looked into his face without a trace of embarrassment, her strength surprising him.
“You’ve been well?” Gwaynn asked, but his eyes kept straying to the woman behind. He had to continuously jerk them back like they were a pair of curious puppies, each on a short leash.
Emm smiled and her face instantly changed from what he considered to be plain to, if not beautiful, at least radiant. He understood now how Krys could be attracted to her, though she still paled next to Samantha…and for that matter, the strange woman who stood behind her.
“Taylor treats me well,” the girl answered and then seeing, like most men these days, that the Prince’s attention was on Cyndar, she turned slightly.
“This is Cyndar and Robert Huntley,” Emm continued, and her eyes finally found Krys as he walked up to join them. “They’re from Heron and were traveling to the Plateau to join you.”
“M’lord,” the two said in unison and bowed deeply to him. Gwaynn studied the pair but could not see much of a family resemblance. He was about to ask if they were acquainted with Paulo and his wife Karla, but was interrupted by the sound of a distant horn. His eyes instantly went to the direction of the sound but the mill blocked the view of that portion of the Plateau.
“Gwaynn,” Bock shouted, running to him at full speed. “The Deutzani are attacking the flanks in force.”
The entire party hurried as one around the offending building. Almost at once Gwaynn understood the Deutzani plan. He watched in horror as a long stream of troops moved up one of the eastern gaps in the Scar to the Plateau above. Though Gwaynn could not see it all from his vantage point, he could tell that the Massi troops positioned above were already engaging a mass of Deutzani heavy infantry. He could hear the distance shouts and clashes of metal and realized that the fighting was intense and that his troops would soon be heavily outnumbered. They were in a desperate a situation which would only worsen by the looks of the column of enemy soldiers still moving up the gap. Panic and fear gripped him. Samantha was up there guarding the flank with a host of other untried soldiers and archers.
“Sath will move the Toranado back up to the Plateau,” Bock said assessing the situation.
“It may not be enough if the Deutzani are attacking the left flank as well,” Gwaynn answered, his voice harsher than he intended in his worry.
Only at the very edge of the Scar was the battle visible to them, and they watched for several tense moments until a lone figure fell from the heights above. From this distance, Gwaynn could not tell if the person was Deutzani or Massi, but there was no chance of survival for the unlucky soul. The river was a good two hundred feet from the base of the cliff so only rocks waited below. When the body hit, fear for Samantha welled up inside Gwaynn once more…and then panic. He looked around at those before him….maybe thirty people in all, but perhaps he, Krys and Bock…and Brandt could make a difference.
“We have to get back,” Bock said impatiently in his ear as Gwaynn searched for a nearby route up to the Plateau, but there was no easy way within sight.
“We have to get up there,” Gwaynn said pointing, and those who knew him could hear the panic in his voice, but outwardly his manner remained calm. He walked quickly to his horse and the others, thinking he was going to mount Eve, followed along behind. But instead, Gwaynn pulled out a handful of sugar cubes from his saddle bags and much to everyone’s surprise, shoved them all in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed them quickly, then grabbed a handful of dried apples and shoved them in the pocket of his thick leather jerkin.
“You’ll fight with us?” Gwaynn asked Robert Huntley, who stammered in surprise, but after a quick glance at his sister, nodded.
“Of course. We both will,” Huntley answered not truly believing he was being forced to fight his countrymen for a man he’d been sent to kill, but the Tarina must have her reasons. Ever since the Massi Prince’s arrival he half expected Cyn de Baard to kill him without warning. The Prince was close enough and off his guard. Huntley was sure she would have succeeded easily. And with Executioners it was often said that their own deaths were inconsequential next to the death of their target. He initially hoped the Tarina did not share such a view, because surrounded by the enemy as they were, he realized that Prince’s death would soon be followed by his own. But as precious moments and opportunities passed, he grew more confident that she would not sacrifice both their lives for the Massi brat.
“Weapons!” Brandt shouted and a dozen or so men rushed back into the mill. They returned momentarily with a wide variety of swords, knives and kali and immediately began to distribute them.
Gwaynn nodded to Huntley and looked about at the armed men around him.
He wanted to yell, “Mount up,” but did not have confidence in his ability to make a bridge large enough for horses to pass though. “To me!” he shouted instead. He glanced around and chose a group of three older men of Brandt’s.
“You three,” he ordered, “lead the horses back across the Manse Bridge. “Guard them well. We may have need of them before the end.” It was still a bit surprising to him that the men bowed slightly and then began to move about and do as he asked without even a word of dissent. He spotted Krys and instantly noticed the look of worry on his face. He was staring down at Emm, and she was looked back up at him, each apparently oblivious to their surroundings.
“Escort this lady also,” Gwaynn added. He would need Krys’ kali in this battle, both of his kali, not one for the Deutzani and one to guard Emm. Krys glared at him a moment, but Gwaynn forced himself not to soften, and then he turned back to the three men.
“Guard her with your lives. If she dies, you die!” he said with as much force as he could muster, though he had no intention of killing any potential Massi soldiers. He would need them all before this war ended.
Krys’ eyes rema
ined hard for a moment, and then Emm reached up and touched his arm. She whispered something Gwaynn could not hear and he saw his friend melt in acceptance. Krys nodded to her and helped her into the saddle of his own horse and when he finally turned back to him, Gwaynn could tell his Weapons Master was committed again…fully.
‘I can do no less than what I’ve demanded of him,’ he thought. ‘My kali must be for the Deutzani only. I must trust Sam and the fates to look after her.’
“To me!” he yelled again as the horses and Emm began to make their way to the west along the river. They all moved a bit closer, curiosity evident on every face, as he took a deep breath and began to weave his arms about in the twenty-nine steps. He feared he would have to slow time to attain the concentration needed to create a bridge, but that would be disastrous going into battle as he was, but he would do it if he had to. After what seemed to be several moments his immediate surroundings fell away. Gwaynn continued to focus all his attention on the steps he was performing until his mind was free and clear of all concerns. Deeper and deeper he fell into his task, his concentration sharpening to a fine point until finally, after far too long, a large part of his consciousness left his body and he projected. He breathed a quick sigh of relief; his fear now safely behind him. Once free of his body he moved his projected self rapidly up through the air and into the midst of the ongoing battle. At first he could not find Samantha and true panic set in, but then he spotted a figure with a bow and with a splash of dark red hair visible beneath a leather cap. She was far from the Scar and near the front of the lines but she seemed in good health and was not under immediate threat. Gwaynn relaxed a little and picked out a relatively clear spot as close to Samantha as possible. Then he turned and faced the direction where his solid body was located, and without hesitation tried to rejoin his two halves as na Gall had shown him. At first nothing happened, and a twinge of fear returned, but then all at once the screaming vortex appeared, twirling all around the river and the Scar, but the soldiers fighting the battle around him appeared to notice nothing unusual.
Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series Page 25
