The messenger was still holding onto him, staring up into his face, with wide eyes. «Are you feeling all right, Captain Blade?»
«Well enough for the moment. Go to Yekran at once. Tell him that he should not take anybody outside the walls unless I tell him. Anybody.» He slapped the messenger lightly on the shoulder. «Run!» The messenger shot off into the darkness even faster than he had come. Blade and Narlena followed more slowly.
They came up through the center of the enclave where the reserves had already heard of the rout of the southern attack. The fighters swarmed around Blade, pounding him on the back, pumping his hand, cheering loud enough to make his head ache even more. Seeing the Dreamers cheering and capering about as if the battle had already been won didn't improve Blade's already short temper. He was on the verge of bursting out furiously at the people around him when suddenly the blue-white light of the marconite lamps poured down the street from the north. A moment later the unmistakable roar of another battle followed the light. Messengers came pelting down the street, yelling, «Attack! Attack! All along the northern side. They're on the wall!»
Before Blade could move or speak, the entire reserve force was on the move, pouring north like stampeding cattle. The rush nearly swept Blade and Narlena off their feet. Blade waved his arms, struck at people with the flat of his sword, shouted at them to halt, roared threats, and roared curses that would have blistered their ears as thoroughly as any fireball if they had ever been heard over the uproar. He might as well have saved his breath. Most of the reserves kept on at a dead run to the north side of the enclave. As they came pelting up, Blade grabbed Narlena by the arm and dragged her to one side. Then he sprang up on a pile of stones to get a view over the heads of the crowd.
Some of the Wakers here had bows. Arrows were whistling in both directions; Blade saw little swirls in the crowd of reserves as men went down. He sprang down from the pile and pushed his way forward, using his hands, elbows, and voice on the staring, milling crowd. Eventually he got through and up onto the wall.
There were more Wakers here than there had been in the southern attack, but they were not rushing in. Not now, at least. A litter of mangled and charred bodies in the street before the wall showed where they had tried it once. Now they were holding well back at the end of the street, too far for accurate shooting by the catapults, too spread out to make a good target for the fireballs. Blade frowned. Were the Wakers here too demoralized from a single repulse to make another attack? Or were they waiting. And if so, what for?
Yekran spoke from behind him, and Blade spun around. «What's going on here?»
«They came in once and lost about fifty men. We used the lights, and that was a great surprise for them. After that, they went back to the end of the street. They seem to be waiting there for something.»
So Yekran had noticed it, too.
His sober voice showed it was bothering him.
«You're right,» said Blade. «But we can't do anything about them now. Let's get those damned reserves back where they belong, now! They can't do a thing standing around here like that and gaping.»
Yekran nodded and sprang down into the crowd. Blade heard his voice rising loud and clear and profane. A moment later the reserves began to break up and drift back south.
And a moment after that, from the east, came a single great burst of sound. Hundreds of voices were all shouting the same name at once.
«Krog!»
The terrible cry seemed to paralyze every man and woman in sight. Except Blade. He bounded down the wall, ignoring the pains the violent motion sent shooting through his head. Yekran too was already on the move, heading toward the east-west street at a dead run. Blade bulled a path through the reserves and caught Yekran as they both turned into the street. Then they halted.
Streaming toward them came a mob of Dreamer fighters, fleeing in a mad panic from what was behind them. Blade recalled that Erlik had been in command here but could not see him in the confusion. The wall itself was alive with Wakers shouting «Krog!» and «Blue Eye!» at the top of their lungs and pouring forward. The Dreamers on the roofs continued to hurl down stones, fireballs, and arrows, but the People of the Blue Eye ignored them. And the wall was abandoned! With the wall abandoned, there was nothing to stop Krog's fighters from storming straight into the heart of the enclave.
Blade whirled on Yekran. «Back to the north side. Send all the trained fighters from the reserve down here. Then get ready for another attack from the north. They're trying to hit us from two directions at once.»
Yekran vanished at a run. Blade whirled around and faced the fleeing Dreamers, drawing his sword and whirling it high over his head. His voice roared out, louder than even the war cries of the oncoming Wakers.
«Stop and fight, you damned cowards! Do you want to be slaves? Do you want to see Pura in ruins forever? What kind of fools are you?»
Some of the Dreamers, ignored him and pelted right on past him as if he had not been there. But others jerked to a stop as if Blade had thrown a rope around their necks. They turned and stared at him.
«Yes, you!» he bellowed. «Stop and help me, you idiots. We can still win this battle. We can still win Pura!»
Whether they understood his words or only his tone, more of them stopped. Blade pointed back toward the oncoming Wakers and waved his sword again. «Come on, then!» He ran toward the enemy, and a dozen men followed him.
Blade had never been more certain in all his adventures that he was rushing to his death. But even a few minutes delay in the rush of Krog's fighters. . He stopped worrying about possibilities and fixed his attention on the oncoming Wakers. They had slowed from a run to a fast walk. But in the excitement of being inside the enclave with victory in sight, their discipline was going. They were coming on in a formation as ragged as that of any other Waker gang, fighting pairs scattering and breaking up. Blade saw Halda just behind the front rank, waving her arms and yelling at the fighters. Everyone seemed to be having trouble with discipline.
Blade pulled his little band to a stop just outside accurate spear-throwing range. At the sight of them the Wakers stopped and started pulling their formation into some sort of order. Good. That meant a little delay right there. Then Halda sprang out in front of the line, bloodstained and filthy but so magnificently alive that for a moment Blade almost found himself admiring her.
«Blade,» she shouted. «Why are you fighting for these stupid cowards? Come back to the People of the Blue Eye and help my father rule Pura!»
«Do you want that, Halda, or do you just want me to come back so you can stick a knife in my ribs while I sleep? Maybe you're afraid of fighting me here? You'd rather torture more helpless women?»
Halda screamed in raw, incoherent rage, and for a moment she could not say a word.
Blade stepped forward a few feet and shouted, «Let Krog himself come out and tell me this! Then maybe I'll believe it!»
Blade licked his dry lips. He had already delayed the Waker charge by several minutes. If Krog came out, exposed himself. .