The boys nodded as Lyra started crawling along the dirty moat. Although the moat was no longer filled with water, the ground toward the center of the moat was wet from the spring rains and Lyra tried to keep to the side where it was somewhat dryer. Still, her hands and knees were soon covered with the slimy mud. The sounds of screaming and battle floated on the air and Lyra wanted to yell and charge into the castle to battle with the attackers. She gritted her teeth in frustration as she continued crawling through the filthy moat. The sun beating down on her back made it feel as if she was being baked in a mud pit and she shivered with relief when the shadow of the castle fell over the moat as they reached the front of the academy. Looking up, she could see that riders were still coming in from the road and she scurried to the safety of the drawbridge.
They huddled under the drawbridge in darkness as riders continued to pour into the Academy. Dust and dirt rained down on the three youngsters as they hid and covered their ears to ease the sound of the hoofs pounding on the wooden planks overhead. The thundering seemed to echo endlessly through Lyra’s mind and she pressed her forehead into the moist dirt before her. The last of the riders crossed and Lyra lifted her head and shook it. The screams of death and dying pierced her ears and she almost wished for the horses to come back.
Syman and Antello fidgeted constantly as if they were about to leap out of the moat and join the battle barehanded. Lyra looked from one to the other and saw the same tenseness that was usually present in one preparing to spring into battle. Quickly, she guided her thoughts through the images of scrolls and books that her father used to teach magic. She sorted through her lessons to find some type of magic that could stop her two friends from running towards their deaths. She knew that the number of raiders was too great for them to make a difference to anyone inside.
Finally, she remembered a healing spell used to relax patients who were in great pain. She pulled her hands out of the muck that constituted the wall of the moat and tried to wipe them clean. Turning towards Antello, she laid her hands on him. Being a veritable optimist, Antello would be the first to leap out of the moat and meet his death. Quietly, she chanted the spell as Antello looked at her in amazement. He shook his head as if to protest, but Lyra could feel his body starting to relax. Continuing quietly with her chant, Lyra was surprised with the effect of the spell when Antello closed his eyes and his head plopped into the muck on the side of the moat.
Turning towards Syman, Lyra saw that he was engrossed with the sounds from inside the castle. His head was cocked slightly as if he thought it would make his hearing clearer. Being a pessimist, Syman would know that death awaited him inside the castle, but he was no coward and Lyra knew that he was not far from leaving his hiding place to join the fray. Quickly, she laid her hands on him and he shivered at her touch and turned to look at her. Lyra ignored his questioning eyes as she began whispering the chant. During her lessons, the patients never lost consciousness, but their relaxed body eased the pain. When Syman collapsed in a similar manner as Antello had, Lyra wondered why and determined to ask her father about it when the raid was over.
The thought of her father snapped her back to reality and she wondered if she would have a father when this was all over, but quickly chastised herself for having such thoughts. Master Malafar was the greatest mage in Omunga and no simple raiding party could kill him. Lyra wondered how the three of them could help in some way and for the first time in her life she berated herself for her lack of attention in class. She knew that her father had taught her much, but she was too frightened and excited to think of what to do. Pressing her palms over her ears to shut out the noise, Lyra tried to calm herself and mentally walk through her lessons. By the time Lyra had calmed herself and brought her ragged breathing back to normal, the horses started to come back out of the castle.
Once again the drawbridge reverberated with the sound of pounding hooves and the dirt began falling once more on the three students. After what felt like hours, the thundering hoofs were gone and voices could be heard. Syman and Antello started to stir and Lyra gently touched each of them to remind them where they were. A loud conversation was taking place not far from the drawbridge and the three youngsters listened alertly for any clues they could pick out of the discussion.
“Your men are fools and bunglers,” shouted an angry voice. “I wanted them both alive. He will never cooperate alone. The only chance we have now is to find that fool of a girl he calls a daughter. I want her found alive. Alive! Do you understand?”
“As you wish, Klaarg,” mumbled another voice. “We didn’t know what the wife looked like. You can’t blame my men for her death. She was decimating my men and we thought she was just another magic instructor. You never said the wife was a mage too. As least we have the painting of the daughter. She will not get far. I will find an artist to duplicate the painting and all of Omunga will know what she looks like. We will capture her alive. You can depend on it.”
“I am depending on it,” berated Klaarg, “and so are you. If she dies, you will die also. I will not tolerate any more mistakes. See that you make none.”
The pounding of Klaarg’s horse drowned the response out as he rode across the drawbridge, but another voice soon joined the conversation.
“I have checked every hiding hole in the entire castle,” reported the new voice. “She is not here.”
“Well, she has to be somewhere,” stormed the leader’s voice. “You stay here in case she returns. I am taking the men to the village to find out if she decided to take a day off. I will turn that village inside out and return by nightfall. See that you have captured her by then and make sure that she remains alive. If Klaarg is going to kill me for her death, you can be assured that I will kill you if she dies.”
The leader didn’t wait for a response, but rode quickly across the drawbridge. When the noise of his passing subsided, Lyra was not sure whether the other man was still near the drawbridge or if he had retreated inside. Lyra pulled herself up toward the old wooden planks and tried to peer through the slits, but she could not see any sign of the raider. Syman understood what was on her mind and he rolled in the muck until he could see around the edge of the drawbridge. He signaled that there was no one visible and all three of the youngsters quickly scrambled out of the moat. They ran to the castle and pressed their backs firmly against the stone walls.
Lyra frowned when she saw the footprints they had left behind, but unless the raider was very observant, she doubted he would notice because of all the other marks made by the horsemen who had just left. Lyra leaned around the archway and glanced into the courtyard, but she could see only bloody bodies lying on the ground. The raider must have reentered the castle. Her eyes fixed on the sword of a fallen guard and she nodded to Syman. He nodded back as the three young warriors dashed into the courtyard. The Academy grounds were deathly quiet and Lyra made sure that the sword she grabbed did not strike the ground as she hefted it. She looked back at the boys and saw that each of them had also found a useable sword among the bodies.
The front doors to the Academy were wide open and Syman and Antello each pressed their body to a different side of the doorway. Lyra looked at them quizzically and then nodded. Lyra stood in the center of the courtyard and glanced at her two friends. Each of them nodded and Lyra banged her sword against the stone ground of the courtyard. The sound from that one strike reverberated through the courtyard and into the castle. It took only seconds for the raider to appear with his sword drawn and a smile upon his face.