Only Niryn was close enough to hear the rebuff. Korin saw the wizard’s faint smile and swore revenge. “By the Four and the Flame, Father, I won’t fail you.”
Erius placed his left hand on Korin’s head. “By the Four and the Flame, I bless you. Keep Rheynaris with you and listen to his counsel.”
Korin bowed to the king and strode away. Rheynaris followed, but, still stinging from his father’s harsh words, Korin stubbornly refused to acknowledge him.
With Rheynaris’ scouts to guide them, Tobin and his small force hurried on foot through the deserted streets. His own guard and a dozen of the king’s armed men came with them to the north wall, but they met no resistance. The houses were shuttered on all sides. No light showed.
Climbing to the hoarding, they looked out through the arrow slits and noted the scattered watch fires below. The main concentration was along the harbor, but Tobin could see a chain of such fires scattered up the coastline, as well.
The land beyond the walls was flat, with little cover. The moon was down, but the stars gave enough light to make out the pale line of the high road.
In order to move quickly, Tobin and the others had left their heavy armor and shields behind. Clad in plain coats of studded leather, they wore their scabbards strapped on their backs and carried their bows in their hands.
“Here, Prince Tobin,” one of the scouts whispered, lifting a trapdoor over a murder hole. It was a dizzying drop, fifty feet or so. Rheynaris’ men readied the ropes they’d brought.
“I’ll go first,” Tharin whispered. Passing a knotted loop over his head, he tugged it securely up under his arms and sat down with his legs over the edge of the hole. He gave Tobin a wink as three brawny soldiers lowered him through.
Tobin lay on his belly and watched as Tharin reached the ground and melted quickly into the shadow of a nearby hedge.
Lynx went next, then Koni and Ki. Ki gave him a sickly grin as he slid off the edge and disappeared with his eyes squeezed shut.
Tobin went quickly, not giving himself time to think of the open space below his boots. Reaching the ground, he cast off the rope and ran to join the others.
Tharin had already taken stock. “We’ll have to stay clear of the road. They’ll be watching that and it’s bright enough for them to see us moving. There’s nothing to do but run for it and hope we find horses soon. Make sure your arrows are tamped.”
Tobin and the others checked the wadded wool stockings they’d stuffed into their quivers to keep the shafts from rattling.
“Ready,” said Ki.
“All right, then. Here we go.”
The first few miles were harrowing. The starlight seemed bright as noon and cast their shadows across the ground.
The steadings closest to the city had been overrun. They were not burned, but the livestock had been taken and the inhabitants slaughtered. Men, women, and children lay where they’d fallen, hacked to death. Tharin didn’t let them linger there, but hurried on to the next, and the next. It was several miles before they got north of the Plenimarans’ path of destruction. The steadings beyond were deserted, their byres empty. The farmland between was open fields, with only a few hedges and walls to shelter behind.
At last they spotted a sizable copse and ran for it, only to be greeted by the unmistakable twang of bowstrings as they neared the trees. A shaft sang by Tobin’s cheek, close enough for him to hear the buzz of the fletching as it passed.
“Ambush!” Tharin cried. “To the right! Get to cover.”
But as they ran that way swordsmen leaped out to meet them. There was no time to count, but they were outnumbered. Tobin was still reaching for his sword when Lynx let out his war cry and hurtled past him to charge the nearest swordsman. Men closed in around him as his blade found steel.
Then the others were on them. Tobin dodged the first man who reached him and swung a crushing blow across the back of his neck just below his helmet. He went down and two more leaped at Tobin. “Blood, my blood,” Tobin whispered without thinking, but Brother did not come.
Tobin fought on, flanked by Tharin and Ki. He could hear Koni shouting behind him, and the clash of steel off to his right told him Lynx was still standing.
The blood sang in Tobin’s ears as he met each attacker and drove him back. They were strong, but he held his own until there was no one left to fight. Bodies littered the ground around them and he saw others running away.
“Let them go,” Tharin panted, leaning on his sword.
“You all right, Tob?” Ki gasped.
“They never touched me. Where are the others?”
“Here.” Lynx strode out from the shadows under the trees, his blade black to the hilt in the starlight.
“That was a damn fool thing to do!” Tharin shouted, grabbing him by the arm and shaking him angrily. “You stay close next time!”
Lynx yanked free and turned away.
“Leave him alone,” said Tobin. “He acted bravely.”
“That wasn’t bravery,” Tharin snapped, glaring at the sullen squire. “If you want to throw your life away, you wait until we have the prince safe in Atyion! Your duty is to Prince Tobin now. Do you hear me, boy? Do you?”
Lynx hung his head and nodded.
Tobin looked around. “Where’s Koni?” No one else was standing.
“Oh, hell!” Tharin began searching through the bodies. The others did the same, calling Koni’s name. The fallen men all wore the black of Plenimar and Tobin didn’t think twice about sticking a knife in the few still moving.
“Koni!” he called, wiping his blade on his leg. “Koni, where are you?”
A low moan came from somewhere to his left. Turning, he saw a dark figure crawling slowly in his direction.
Running to him, Tobin knelt to examine his wounds. “How badly are you hurt?”
The young guardsman collapsed with a groan. The others reached them as Tobin gently turned him over. A broken arrow shaft protruded from his chest just below his right shoulder.
“By the Light!” Tharin leaned in for a closer look. “Who the hell is that?”
Tobin stared down in dismay at the fair-haired youth wearing Koni’s clothes. His chest was soaked with blood and his breath came in short, painful gasps. “I don’t know.”
The young man’s eyes flickered open. “Eyoli. I’m—Eyoli. Iya sent me. I’m—mind clouder.”
“A what?” Ki drew his sword.
“No, wait.” Tharin knelt by him. “You say Iya sent you. How do we know that’s true?”
“She told me to tell Prince Tobin—” He grimaced, clutching at his chest. “To tell you that the witch is in the oak. She said—you’d understand.”
“It’s all right,” Tobin said. “Back in Ero, she told me to keep Koni with me. He must be a wizard.”
“Not—not much of one.” The stranger let out a weak chuckle. “And even less of a fighter. She told me to stay close to you, my prince. To protect you.”
“Where’s Koni, then?” Tharin demanded.
“Killed, before the gates went down. I took his place and caught up with you before you were cornered at that inn.”
“He’s dead?” Grief-stricken, Tobin turned away.
“I’m sorry. It was the only way to stay with you. She said stay close,” Eyoli gasped. “That’s how she knew we were trapped. I sent word.”
“Does she know where we are now?” asked Tobin.
“I think so. She must not have been able to get out.”
Tobin looked back at the burning city. There was no question of waiting for Iya now.
“How badly is he hurt?” asked Ki.
“The arrow and a sword cut to his side,” Tharin replied. “We’ll have to leave him.”
“No!” cried Tobin. “He’ll die out here alone.”
“Go, please!” Eyoli struggled to sit up. “Iya will find me. You must go on.”
“He’s right, Tobin,” said Tharin.
“We’re not leaving him to die. That’s an order, do you hear me? He helped save all of us today. I won’t leave until we’ve done what we can for him.”