Diera flinched. His tone was hard, his eyes cold. He knew it worried her but there was no other way if they were to live. He assessed their position. Going on was their only option. Already, survivors were stumbling towards them from the crosspath, bloodied and angry.
'Back away,' said The Unknown, pushing her gently in the right direction. 'Don't run.'
They'd been seen. Four men with swords ready. Brief guilt surged through The Unknown at the position he'd placed his family in. Others might have been ignored as Arlen townsfolk, but the shaven head, bull neck and sheer size of The Unknown Warrior made him instantly recognisable. And every Dordovan knew with whom he had fought on Herendeneth. Xetesk.
'Running to join your soul brothers?' sneered one. He was burned across his head but otherwise unhurt. 'Just that little bit too far away, aren't they?'
'I'm just taking my family from here,' said The Unknown. 'I've no fight with you.'
'You're Xeteskian.'
'I'm Raven.'
'But they aren't here.'
'Keep clear, Diera,' said The Unknown.
'Why?'
'And don't let Jonas see.'
The Unknown tapped his blade once on the ground and ran at the Dordovans. They hesitated fractionally as he knew they would. It was their undoing. His blade sliced clean into the stomach of the first soldier but was blocked by the second. He fielded a wild swing from the third on the broad hilt of his dagger even as he dropped to his haunches, left leg sweeping out to knock the poorly balanced swordsman's legs from under him.
Bouncing up on his right leg, he stabbed straight forwards into the neck of the second, his speed making a nonsense of the man's defence. Again he was moving as he struck. Left this time, dagger fending off a smart stab to his midriff from the fourth. He turned the strike aside, reversed his dagger and buried it in the soldier's eye.
Not stopping, he left the blade where it jutted from the dead man's skull, gripped his long sword in two hands, spun and chopped down through the shoulder of the last survivor as he tried to get up and defend at the same time, succeeding in neither.
The Unknown knelt to clean his gore-spattered blade on their clothes. He heard shouting close at hand. More Dordovans had witnessed his devastating attack. They were coming left and right, twenty yards distant. An arrow sang past him.
'Dammit.'
He turned as he straightened, sheathing his blades. Diera was staring at him, her face white and eyes wide. She pointed behind him at the quartet of corpses.
'You-' she began.
'Not pretty, is it?' He grabbed her arm and swung her round, starting to run. 'We've got to go. Now.'
'They're dead. You killed them all.'
'It's what I do. You know that. Now come on.'
Almost lifting her from her feet, The Unknown set off down the narrow passageway. The fighting was concentrated to their right around the centre of the dockside, on the other side of the warehouse that loomed dark grey above them. He guessed they had two hundred yards to make it into the heart of the Salt Quarter. It would probably be no safer but they might find friendly blades.
The shouts of pursuit spilled into the passage behind them. A thud by his head and a skipping off a stone at his feet told him the bowmen had almost got their range. He pushed Diera in front of him, still trying to support her terrified stumbling run, Jonas whimpering again under her cloak.
'Keep running if I fall.'
Another shaft whistled past his head, burying itself in the wall just beyond. Diera yelped. Ten yards ahead, a turning.
'Go left.'
He saw her nod. Arrows clattered into the walls behind, another flew overhead. He ducked reflexively, arms coming up to protect Diera. They swung left. The Unknown sensed fighting very close. The passageway ended at a blank wall and went left and right.
'Right, go right,' he said, pushing Diera ever faster. She half stumbled.
'Please,' she said. 'Jonas.'
'Move!' he snapped. 'Don't stop.'
She started and ran on, taking the right turn.
Twenty yards and it opened out on to war. The street beyond was ablaze. Men ran everywhere, orders were barked over the deafening roar of battle. Spells fell at random, fire and lightning gouging rents in the ground and destroying unshielded soldiers. Corpses and the screaming wounded littered the ground.
'Ten yards and stop!' shouted The Unknown. 'Take the doorway. Crouch small.'
Not waiting to see her do it, he swung to face the opening, dragging out his sword, its point tapping rhythmically in the mud. Their pursuers were only moments away, their breath and words betraying them. First was a bowman, tearing blindly round the corner, an arrow nocked in his bow. The Unknown shifted his weight forward and drove his sword up between the archer's legs and out through his ribcage, the power of the blow launching him backwards, dead before he hit the ground.
A couple of paces behind came a pair of swordsmen, one slightly in advance, both more wary than their erstwhile companion. The Unknown batted aside the first blade and straight punched the soldier in the face, feeling his nose break and sending him tumbling back. The second, quick and accurate, whipped a deep cut into The Unknown's left arm.
He swore at the sudden pain and brought his sword back one-handed low across his body, biting into his attacker's thigh. The man cried out and half fell forwards. The Unknown took his chance, lashing out with a foot and catching the soldier on the point of his jaw. His head snapped back with a wet crack. He crumpled.
The Unknown advanced on the other swordsman, who looked at him through bloodied hands, turned and ran away, shouting for help. It would have to be enough. The Raven warrior hurried to Diera.
'Come on.'
'Your arm.' She reached out.
'It's fine,' he said, glancing at the blood slicking over his hand.
'It's not.'
'No time for bandages. We've got to go. Now.' He leaned in and kissed her. 'Stay close to me and you'll live.'
'We're going out there?'
'It's the only way.'
The Unknown knew what he had to do. Sword in right hand, Diera's trembling hand in his left, he moved quickly to the opening onto the main street, keeping as far into the shadows as he could.
Out on the street it was mayhem. To the left, Xetesk was defending the entrance to a small square but the line was fragmented. Dordovan forces were pouring down the street from the north, their mages bombarding the rear of the line with FlameOrbs and HotRain, filling the sky with orange radiance. Soldiers threw themselves on the wavering Xeteskians, pounding them, threatening to drive them back and turn their flanks. It had to be one of half a dozen key conflicts in the town but the defence he wanted wasn't there.
'Where are they?'
'Who?'
'You know,' said The Unknown. A ForceCone tore out from the Xeteskian line, scattering unshielded Dordovans. There was an opening. 'Let's go.'
Diera's scream was lost in the storm of noise that assaulted them out in the street. The Unknown lashed to his right, a soldier fell clutching at his entrails. The big warrior hauled his wife and child behind him, running full tilt at the back of the Dordovan assault.
He ignored the voices raised against him as he passed, praying for the confusion of the fight to hide him for just long enough. He glanced down at Diera, so small and fragile, and fear grabbed his heart. That he might not get her through. That she and Jonas might fall under the swords of men who attacked them because of him and him alone. At the same moment, she glanced up, and through her terror, he saw determination. She clutched Jonas tighter under her cloak. The Unknown nodded.
Never letting her go but keeping her just behind him as he dodged through the chaos he hoped would shield them, he pushed men aside, sword hilt connecting roughly with shoulder, face and back.