The company made its way through the woods in the predawn darkness. Brie marveled at how quietly this mass of people, horses, and dogs was able to move through the trees.
When they reached the forest's edge, Brie signaled to the archers to come up along her right side and spread out. Brie could just make out the beginning of the gabha encampment, a cluster of crudely built wooden huts, thatched with straw, scattered among the sedges and shrubs of the fields stretching to the east of Sedd Wydyr. With a satisfied nod, Brie again signaled, this time to the archers who bore the special arrows.
The incendiary arrows flew high, their arcs wavering slightly because of the wad of oil-soaked hemp lodged next to the arrowhead. Some plunged into the ground, igniting the dry grass and scrub; some plummeted down onto the thatched roofs of the gabha huts; one or two even found a sleeping goat-man. Plumes of smoke rose, mingling with the fog, and bursts of fire flared throughout the camp. The goat-horses began a frenzied braying, and there were guttural shouts from gabha throats.
Brie signaled to a man from the village Cerriw, and the melodic, high-pitched notes of a Dungalan war horn sounded.
She and Collun exchanged glances, then Brie laid her hand on Ciaran's neck. They broke forward, the two Ellyl horses neck to neck. Brie could hear the muffled thunder of hooves behind her.
Ciaran was a nose ahead of Fiain as they burst into the gabha camp, trampling flame and sparks under their hooves. A scattering of goat-men came running with snatched-up weapons.
At Brie's unspoken command, Ciaran halted and, digging her knees into the Ellyl horse's back, Brie shot off several arrows in quick succession. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Collun meet the charge of a large goat-man swinging a thick club. And Fara was a whirling mass of claws and teeth and fur.
Brie rained arrows on any goat-man who staggered out of the smoke. Ill-organized and dazed, the creatures were easy targets. Backed up by the Dungalan archers, Brie struck again, and then again. Sweat trickled into her eyes, and her arm began to ache. From beside her, around her, and over her head, arrows flew. Any goat-men that the archers missed were met by Dungalan soldiers with swords and spears.
Bodies lay thick on the ground. Then Brie heard the strident note of another horn; it made a sound different than the Dungalan horn—a raw, jarring series of notes. Ahead of her, a stone's throw away, she saw what looked like two large white corkscrews, spiraling up, splitting the smoke. It was the gabha leader, Cernu. The gabha horn sounded again, and the goat-men fell back, answering the call of their leader.
Dismounting, Brie found Collun in the fog and smoke. He, too, had dismounted. The Ellyl horses were, on their own, doing considerable damage with hooves and teeth to the gabha they met. Collun's sword blade was bloody and he looked pale, but he managed a grin of sorts when he caught sight of Brie. Brie felt something rub against her legs and looked down to see Fara, whose white coat bore streaks of blood.
Before Brie and Collun could exchange a word, the goat-men surged forward. Cernu had organized his forces and they were attacking. Brie and Collun advanced to meet them. The Dungalan horn sounded again, and from then on Brie was surrounded by the feral, snarling faces of goat-men. Her ears rang with a fearful noise—swords clanging, screams of the injured and dying, and the braying of the gabha. She swung her small sword, her mind gone somewhere else. She killed, over and over again, but it did not seem real.
There were only a handful of moments that pierced through the numbness, an occasional vivid glimpse of something familiar and startling, such as Collun's pale set jaw as he wielded the sword he had found in the passage grave; Aelwyn the wyll, small and fierce, her colorful layers of clothing swirling as she laid about her with a shining sharp knife, jewels sparkling in its handle; Silien, the Ellyl prince, nimble and deft, his silver eyes gleaming and the blue-tinged sword he held in his hand flashing; Maire, her face shining with fierce courage, fighting alongside her brother. Brie caught sight of the confused, tremulous look on the boy Dil's face when he felled his first goat-man with an arrow. And Brie saw flames reflected on Jacan's sword and on the swinging blade of a goat-man's ax as the fisherman thrust his blade into the creature's side. She had a moment of horrified disbelief as she saw the Ardaran fisherman Henle fall, his chest slit open by a gabha spear.
Then the goat-men were falling back, and Brie had a brief, flaring sense of hope, but it flickered out when she saw the leader, Cernu, marshaling a fresh legion of gabha troops, directing them to circle the eastern flank of the Dungalan army.
The right side of the company turned to face the onslaught, and once more Brie was pulled into the vortex of straining bodies and plunging weapons. Her sword was knocked out of her hands by a goat-man with a spiked club. Her wrist went numb and she fumbled for her dagger, ducking the creature's next swing. She darted under his arm and plunged her dagger into the top of his stomach. He fell heavily, blood flowing over Brie's numb wrist. She peered and groped around on the ground, but could not find her sword.
Suddenly she saw Dil. A goat-man twice his size had pinned him to the ground, his fur-matted hands encircling the boy's throat. Like lightning Brie sheathed her dagger and reached for an arrow, but found that her quiver was empty, except for the fire arrow.
For a split second she hesitated, then realized she would not be able to get a clear shot; too many were lurching in and out of the arrow's path. Brie drew her dagger, muttered a curse under her breath, and ran at the goat-man.
She was lipon him before he saw her and she sank her knife into his neck. He let out a bray and jerked backward, surprising her. The dagger fell from her hand and she was thrown to the ground, the breath knocked out of her.
Suddenly the goat-man was on top of her and the smell of him was up her nostrils and in her mouth. Her face was buried in the thick foul hair of his chest and she could not breathe. She screamed soundlessly and pushed at the straining body. Then the goat-man abruptly went limp. With a great effort she heaved the inert body off her and lay still a few moments, gasping for breath. Hanna smiled down at her, a bloody blade in her hand. She offered Brie a hand up, giving her back her own dagger, then turned to meet the charge of yet another goat-man.
Somehow Cernu and his army had managed to turn the Dungalans around and were pushing them toward the sea, along the southern edge of the fortress Sedd Wydyr. Behind them, not a hundred yards back, was the white beach. The sun had risen and was now shining in the eyes of the Dungalans.
Then Brie saw Hanna go down, and the goat-man she had been fighting raised his club to crush her head. This time Brie did not hesitate. She quickly reached for the fire arrow. No one was in the way. She nocked the arrow to her bow, but as she pulled it back, the string broke. Brie let out a cry of frustration.
Hanna twisted away from the goat-man's club just in time, but the creature grabbed her by the hair, unsheathing a knife.
Brie grasped the arrow in her hand and sprang toward the goat-man. As she ran she realized this was the second time she had used the fire arrow as a knife and irrationally wondered if the arrow minded.
As if in response the shaft stung her fingers with heat, shocking her a little, but she maintained her grip. The goat-man saw her coming and, still holding Hanna by the hair, threw back his head and brayed.
Brie slashed at him with the fire arrow.
There was a smell of scorched hair, a flash of orange and blue, and the goat-man was. looking at his smoldering arm in surprise. He let go of Hanna, who crumpled to the ground, eyes closed. Brie struck again, and again there was the stench of burning animal flesh. The goat-man fell heavily, the hair on his torso aflame, dead before he hit the ground.