It all seemed to go on forever. They gathered what arrows they could and shot back, and used long poles to push off more scaling ladders. Tobin and Ki had just finished with another one, sending half a dozen men falling back onto their comrades, when an arrow struck the cheek guard of Tobin’s helm. He staggered and a second hit his right shoulder, bruising him through the mail and padding. Ki and Tharin pulled him to cover in a hoarding.
“How bad is it?” Tharin asked, ripping back the torn sleeve of Tobin’s surcoat.
Before Tobin could tell him that it was nothing, a catapult stone shattered the wooden wall a few feet from where they stood and they were all thrown to their knees.
An instant later a huge roar erupted to their left and the stone parapet shuddered beneath them. Screams rang out and men came stampeding past, shouting, “They’ve broken through!”
Leaping up, Tobin looked out through an arrow slit and saw a heap of shattered stone and wood where the gates had been. Enemy soldiers were pouring through.
“That’s necromancers’ work,” Tharin gasped. “The ramming crew was only a decoy!”
Caliel and Korin ran past. “Zusthra’s dead, and Chylnir!” Caliel cried, as Tobin and his men followed.
A few yards on they found Lynx crouched over Orneus, trying to shield his fallen friend from being trampled. Both of them were bloody. A black-fletched arrow had struck Orneus in the throat. His head lolled and his eyes were blank and fixed. Lynx threw his own helmet aside and tried to lift him.
“Leave him, he’s dead!” Korin ordered as he passed.
“No!” Lynx cried.
“You can’t help him!” yelled Tharin. Hauling the sobbing squire to his feet, he clapped the helmet back on his head and shoved him into a trot in front of him.
Fighting their way through another mass of men, they found General Rheynaris kneeling beside the king. Erius’ helm was gone and blood flowed from a gash across his brow, but he was alive and furious. As Korin reached him he staggered to his feet and pushed the others away. “It’s nothing, damn you! Get away from me and do your duty. They’ve broken through! Korin, take your men down the stair near Water Street and outflank the bastards. Get down there, all of you, and drive them back!”
Water Street was empty when they reached it and they stopped to take stock of who was left. Tobin saw with alarm that Lutha and Nikides weren’t with them.
“I lost sight of them about an hour ago,” Urmanis told them, leaning on Garol. His right arm hung useless in a makeshift sling.
“I saw them just before the gates went down,” said Alben. “They were with Zusthra.”
“Oh hell! Caliel, did you see them?” Ki asked.
“No, but if they were anywhere beyond where I last saw him—” Caliel trailed off hoarsely.
Tharin, Melnoth, and Porion took count and found they had fewer than forty men accounted for. Tobin looked anxiously around at his guardsmen and was glad to find most of them still with him. Koni gave him a weary salute.
“There’s no time to worry about the missing now,” Captain Melnoth said. “What are your orders, Prince Korin?”
“Don’t worry,” Tharin murmured to Tobin. “If Nikides and Lutha are alive, they’ll find us.”
“Prince Korin, what are your orders?” Melnoth asked again.
Korin stared toward the sound of fighting, saying nothing.
Porion moved to the prince’s side. “Your orders, my prince.”
Korin turned and Tobin read fear plain in his cousin’s eyes. This must be what Ahra had seen during that first raid. Korin looked imploringly at Porion. Melnoth turned away to hide his look of dismay.
“Prince Korin, I know this part of the city,” Tharin told him. “We’d do best to go through that alley over there to Broad Street and see if we can pick off any scouting parties they send our way.”
Korin nodded slowly. “Yes—yes, we’ll do that.”
Ki shot Tobin a worried look as they drew their swords and followed.
They encountered two small scouting groups and managed to kill most of them, but as they headed back toward the gates they were nearly overrun by a huge force running through the streets with torches, setting everything in their path ablaze. There was no choice but to run.
“This way!” Korin yelled, dashing up a side street.
“No, not that way!” shouted Tharin, but the prince was already gone. They had no choice but to follow.
Rounding a corner, they found themselves cornered in a small market square. No other streets let out from it, and several of the surrounding buildings were already in flames. Dashing through the nearest doorway, they took cover in an inn, only to find that more flames blocked the sole exit in the back.
Tobin ran to the front of the house and peered out through a broken shutter. “Oh hell, Kor, we’re trapped!”
The enemy had followed them. There were at least sixty men outside, talking among themselves in their coarse, guttural tongue. Several were advancing with torches to set the inn afire; as Tobin and the others watched, they threw the brands onto the roof. Archers stood ready to shoot anyone who tried to escape out the front.
“We’ll have to fight our way through,” said Ki.
“There are too many!” Korin snapped. “It’s madness to go out there.”
“And it’s death if we stay here,” Porion told him. “If we put your guard in the forefront and Prince Tobin’s behind, we might be able to rush them.” He gave them a grim smile. “This is what I trained you for, boys.”
There was little hope and they all knew it, but they formed up quickly, with the Companions massed around Korin. Everyone looked scared, except Lynx, who hadn’t spoken since they’d come off the walls. Clutching his sword, he saw Tobin watching him and made him a slight bow, as if to say farewell.
Tobin caught Ki’s eye and did the same, but Ki just set his jaw stubbornly and shook his head. Behind them, Tharin muttered what sounded like, “I’m sorry,” as he rubbed the smoke from his eyes.
“On your order, Prince Korin,” whispered Melnoth.
Tobin was proud to see that Korin did not falter as he raised his hand to give the signal.
Before they could throw the doors open, however, they heard an outcry in the yard, then screams of pain.
Rushing back to the windows, they saw Plenimaran soldiers writhing on the ground, engulfed by blue-white flame. It spread to any who tried to help them, and the rest were already scattering in panic.
“The Harriers!” Korin exclaimed.
Tobin had guessed the same but saw only a few ragged-looking people running away down the alley. Then a lone figure stepped from the shadows into the red light. “Prince Tobin, are you there?”
It was Iya.
“I’m here!” he called back.
“It’s safe for the moment, but we’d best hurry,” she called.
Melnoth grabbed his arm as he started for the door. “You know her?”
“Yes. She was a friend of my father. She’s a wizard,” he added, as if it needed any explanation.
Iya bowed low to Korin as they came out. “Are you hurt, Highness?”
“No, thank you.”
Tobin stared down at the charred, twisted corpses around the yard. “I—I didn’t know you could do—”
“I had a bit of help. They’ve gone on to see what else they can do to halt the invaders. I fear there’s little hope, though. Prince Korin, your father was wounded and carried back to the Palatine. I suggest you join him there at once. Come, I know a safe route. The Plenimarans haven’t broken through to the upper wards yet.”
Night was coming on and a cold drizzle soaked them as they trudged toward the Palatine. A heavy lethargy stole over Tobin, and the other boys were silent, too. It went beyond exhaustion or hunger. They’d all looked Bilairy in the face at that inn; if it hadn’t been for Iya and her mysterious helpers, they’d all be roasting in the embers.
Their way was blocked here and there by rough barricades—carts, furniture, chicken coops, scraps of lumber—anything the panicked defenders had been able to lay their hands on. In one street they were forced to crawl under a cartload of pox victims.