Iya shuddered. Sooner or latter this piper would demand his pay, but not yet. Not yet.
A sound like thunder woke them at dawn. The earth shook and twigs and dead leaves rained down around them. Iya eased the stiffness from her back and limped to the edge of the trees with the others.
Their little copse was about to become an island caught between two great opposing waves. A dark mass of horsemen was nearly upon them from the north and Iya made out the banners of Atyion and Ilear in the forefront. To the south, a host of Plenimaran infantry was marching to meet them. In minutes they’d be at the center of a battle.
And where are you in all that, Arkoniel? she wondered, but knew a sighting spell would be wasted energy. There was no way to help him, even if she knew where he was.
The attack on the farmstead was no more than a raid, and a bit of good luck in the dark. No ballad or lesson had prepared Ki for the reality of battle.
Somehow word of their coming had reached the city. They’d gone less than half a mile from the farm when they saw a large force advancing to meet them.
Ki had listened as well as he could to old Raven’s strategy lessons and histories, but he was happy enough to leave such things to Tobin and the officers. His only thought was to do his duty and keep his friend alive.
“How many?” Tobin asked, reining in.
“Two thousand or so,” Grannia called back. “And they’re not stopping to set stakes.”
Tobin conferred briefly with Tharin and Lord Kyman. “Put foot and archers in the fore,” she ordered. “Atyion’s horse will take right wing, Ilear on the left. I’ll stay at the center with my guard and Grannia’s company.”
The Plenimarans did not stop to parlay or entrench, but came at them in ordered ranks, spears gleaming in the sunlight like a field of silvery oats. Banners of red, black, gold, and white tilted on standards at the front. The forward lines marched in tight squares and used tall rectangular shields to form a wall and roof against arrows.
The Skalan archers went forward first, in five ranks of a hundred each. Aiming high, they shot over the shield line and sent wave after whistling wave of feathered death into the ranks of infantry behind them. The Plenimarans answered with flights of their own and Ki wheeled his horse and threw his shield up to protect Tobin.
Orders flew up and down the front line, bellowed from sergeant to sergeant. Tobin raised her sword and the foot soldiers set off at a trot to meet the Plenimaran line.
Tobin watched for an opening, then gave the signal again and kicked her mount forward. Ki and Tharin flanked her as they went from trot to canter to full gallop. When he could make out the faces of the enemy Ki drew his sword with the others and joined in the war cries.
“Atyion for Skala and the Four!”
They crashed into the melee and very nearly came to grief. A pikeman caught Tobin’s charger in the side and it reared. For one awful instant Ki saw Tobin’s helmeted head framed against the cloudy blue sky above him. Then she was falling, tumbling backward into the maelstrom of surging horses and men.
“Tobin!” Tharin cried, trying to urge his horse through the press to get to her.
Ki leaped from the saddle, dodging and ducking as he sought a flash of her surcoat. A horseman knocked him sprawling, then he was rolling to avoid the trampling hooves that seemed to come at him from every side.
It turned out to be the right direction, for suddenly she was there in front of him, laying about with her sword. Ki ducked another rearing horse and dashed to her, putting his back to hers just as a Plenimaran knight broke through and swung a saber at her head. Ki caught the blade with his own and felt the shock of it all the way to his shoulder.
Tharin rode free of the press and brought his blade down on the man’s head, knocking him off his feet. Ki finished the job.
“Come on, Kadmen has your horses!” he shouted.
He and Tobin mounted, but were soon afoot again as the line ground to a halt. It was like scything an endless hayfield, this fighting. Their sword hands were blistered and numb and glued to their hilts with blood before the enemy finally broke and ran.
“What happened?” Tobin asked as they climbed back into the saddle.
“Colath!” the cry came down the line. “Colath has come to our aid.”
“Colath?” Ki shouted. “That’s Lord Jorvai. Ahra will be with him!”
The Plenimarans were on the run by then, with Jorvai’s orange-and-green banner close behind.
“No quarter!” Tobin cried, raising her sword. “After them, riders, and give no quarter.”
Eyoli was too sick to move, and there was nowhere to take him anyway with the two armies clashing around them. Iya cast an occlusion over him where he lay and set wards to keep him from being trampled. Arrows sang through the foliage and Iya heard a cry, then the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.
“Iya, here. Hurry!” Dylias called.
A party of Plenimaran archers was running toward the trees. Iya joined hands with Saruel and Dylias, and they began the chant. Power surged through them and with the others Iya pointed a hand at the enemy. A flash like lightning sizzled from the wizards’ fingertips and twenty men fell, struck dead in an instant. Those few who survived turned tail and ran.
“Run, you dogs. For Skala!” Dylias cried, shaking his fist at their backs.
The battle swirled back and forth across the plain all morning and the wizards manned the copse like a fortress. When the last of their useful magic was spent, they took to the treetops and hid there.
The two sides were evenly matched in number, and the Plenimarans were a formidable foe. Three times Iya saw Tobin’s banner falter and three times it was taken up again. Helpless to do anything but Watch, Iya clung to the rough trunk and prayed that the Lightbearer would not let so much pain and sacrifice be lost here in sight of the city.
As if in answer to her plea, a huge body of horsemen appeared from the north just as the sun passed noon.
“It’s Colath!” someone cried out.
“A thousand at least!” someone else shouted, and a ragged cheer went up.
The forces of Colath struck on the Plenimarans’ left flank, and the enemy line faltered, then broke. Tobin’s cavalry fell on them like a pack of wolves. The Plenimaran standards fell, and what followed was a massacre.
The rout drove the few survivors back to the city. Tobin led her army straight on for the northern wall.
The Plenimaran defenders there were ready for them. They’d set stakes across the road and fortified the broken gates. Archers behind the stake line and along the walls sent a hail of arrows down on the Skalans as they charged.
For one awful moment Ki was afraid Tobin would keep right on going into the enemy line. She looked like a demon herself, fierce and blood-soaked. But she stopped at last.
Oblivious to the shafts whining around them, she sat her horse and surveyed the gate ahead. Ki and Lynx rode to cover her. Behind them Tharin was shouting and swearing.
“Come on!” Ki shouted, catching two shafts with his shield.
Tobin cast a last glance at the gate, then wheeled her horse and brandished her sword, leading the way back out of range.
“Sakor-touched!” Ki hissed through his teeth, spurring after her.
They rode back a quarter mile or so and stopped to regroup. As Tobin conferred with Lord Kyman and Tharin, a grizzled lord and his escort rode up and hailed her. Ki recognized Jorvai and his eldest sons, but doubted they’d know him. He’d been a scrawny swineherd on Jorvai’s land when they’d last seen him.
Jorvai was the same hale old warrior he remembered. Recognizing Tobin by her surcoat, he dismounted and knelt to present his sword. “My prince! Will the Scion of Atyion accept the aid of Colath?”
“Yes. Rise, with Atyion’s thanks,” Tobin replied.
But Jorvai remained on his knees, looking up at her from beneath his shaggy grey brows. “Is this the son of Rhius I bow to?”
Tobin pulled off her helm. “I am the daughter of Ariani and Rhius.”
Arkoniel and the Illioran priestess who’d come with them from Atyion stepped out to join them. “This is the one who was foretold. She is as she says,” the priestess told him.
“It’s true,” Arkoniel told him. “I’ve known Tobin since birth, and this is the same person.”
“By the Light!” A look of pure wonder came over Jorvai’s face. He had heard the prophecies, and believed. “Will the daughter of Ariani accept the fealty of Colath?”
Tobin accepted his sword. “I do, and most gratefully. Rise, Lord Jorvai and clasp hands with me. My father spoke well of you.”
“He was a great warrior, your father. It seems you take after him. And here’s Captain Tharin!” He and Tharin embraced. “By the Light, I haven’t seen you in years. It’s good to find you still among the living.”
Tobin smiled. “Tell me, my lord, does Ahra of Oakmount still serve you?”
“She’s one of my best captains.”
Tobin motioned Ki forward and clasped his shoulder. “Tell Captain Ahra that her brother and I asked after her, and that she should seek us out when Ero is safe.”
Jorvai looked more closely at Ki. “Well now! One of old Larenth’s boys, aren’t you?”
“Yes, my lord. Kirothius of Oakmount. And Rilmar,” he added.
Jorvai laughed outright at this. “I miss the old bandit and his brood. I don’t doubt you’re well pleased with this one, Highness, if he takes after his old dad.”
“He does, my lord,” Tobin replied, and Ki could tell she liked the plainspoken old man. No wonder, he thought fondly; they’re cut from the same cloth.