“Why Qerla, Fend?” Aspar asked. “Why did you kill her? I’ve never known that.”
Fend grinned, showing his teeth. “You don’t know? That’s delightful.” He coughed. “You’re a lucky old man, you know that? Always lucky.”
“Yah. Very lucky. Are you going to tell me or not?”
“Not, I think.”
Aspar shrugged. “That’s the only thing I wanted from you besides your life. I suppose I’ll settle.”
“I have a little luck of my own,” Fend said. “Look to your lady.”
It was an old trick, and Aspar didn’t fall for it until Winna screamed. Then Aspar wheeled and dropped, knowing no matter what was happening his enemy wouldn’t miss the opportunity. Fend’s second knife whispered over his head, but Aspar didn’t care about him anymore. The greffyn had just entered through the gate. It was moving toward Winna, and Ogre was stamping, ready to meet it.
14
The Arrival
As Anne watched the knight advance on Cazio, something seemed to dim in her even as the purple moonlight seemed to brighten, as if the darkness the moon was displacing sought a hiding place in her soul.
“He’s going to kill Cazio,” Austra said. “Then he’ll kill us.”
“Yes,” Anne said. She realized that they should have been running while Cazio fought, but something had stayed her feet. There might still be time; the Vitellian was certainly losing the battle, but he might last a little longer, long enough for them to escape.
But no, she was horsewoman enough to know how quickly she and Austra would be run down. Their first hope had been in an unnoticed escape, and their second had been Cazio. Neither had proved out. She eyed the knight’s horse specula-tively—but no, a warhorse would never let her mount. It would probably strike her dead if she drew near enough to try.
“Can’t we help him?” Austra asked.
“Against a knight?” But even as she said it, Anne suddenly felt a strange dislocation, as if she were two people—the Anne who had fearlessly ridden down the Sleeve, and the Anne who was starting to understand the consequences of life, who had just watched knights like this slaughter women as if they were barnyard beasts.
Once, she had imagined adventures in which, dressed as a knight herself, she had triumphed over evil foes. Now all she could see was blood, and all she could imagine was her own head lifting from her shoulders in a spray of it.
A few months ago she would have rushed to Cazio’s aid. Now her illusions were dying, and she was left with the world that was. And in that world, a woman did not stand against a knight.
Austra gave her an odd look, one Anne didn’t recognize, as if her friend was a stranger she had only just met.
The knight, meanwhile, lifted his sword over the fallen Cazio, who put up his own slender weapon in frail defense.
“No!” Austra shrieked. Before Anne could think of stopping her, the younger girl ran forward, snatched up a stone, and threw it. It glanced from the knight’s armor, distracting him for a second. Austra kept running toward him.
Anne grabbed a fallen branch, cursing. She couldn’t just watch Austra die.
Austra tried to grab the warrior’s sword arm, but he cuffed her hard on the side of the head with a mailed fist. Cazio wobbled back to his feet, a little out of range, as Anne drew up and stood over her friend, stick in hand. The knight’s visor turned toward her.
“Do not be foolish,” he said. Through the slits in his helm she saw contempt and moonlight reflected in his eyes, and a sudden dark fury raged through her. Her thoughts were whisper-winged owls, stooping on mice. How dare he, beneath the sickle moon? How dare he, in the very womb of night? He, who had violated the sacred soil of Cer and soaked it with the blood of her daughters? How dare he look at her in such a way?
“Man,” Anne husked. “Man, do not look at me.” She didn’t recognize her own voice, so inert it seemed, so devoid of life, as if the dimness in her spilled out with her words.
The light in the knight’s eyes vanished, though the moon was still there, though he had not turned his head. His breath caught, and rattled, and then he did turn his head, this way and that. He rubbed at those eyes, like two holes darker than moonshadow.
Men fight from the outside, with clumsy swords and arrows, Sister Casita had said, trying to pierce the layers of protections we bundle in. They are of the outside. We are of the inside. We can reach there in a thousand ways, slipping through the cracks of eye and ear, nostril and lip, through the very pores of the flesh. Here is your frontier, Sisters, and eventually your domain. Here is where your touch will bring the rise and fall of kingdoms.
Anne, confused and suddenly frightened again, stumbled back, shaking.
What had she done? How?
“Casnar!” Cazio shouted. Anne noticed he’d managed to stand, though not firmly. “Leave off your brave battle against unarmed women and address me.”
The knight ignored him, cutting wildly in the air.
“Haliurun! Waizeza! Hundan!” he shouted. “Meina auyos! Hwa … What have you done to my eyes?”
“Hanzish!” Anne said. “Austra, they’re from Hansa!” She turned to Cazio. “Kill him! Now, while he’s blind.”
Cazio had begun advancing, but now he stopped, puzzled.
“He cannot see? I can’t fight a man who cannot see.”
The knight lurched toward Cazio, but even in his injured state the Vitellian easily avoided him.
“How did you do that, by the by?” Cazio asked, watching his erstwhile opponent crash into a tree. “I’ve heard a dust ground from the nut of Lady Una’s frock—”
“He was going to kill you,” Anne interrupted.
“He has no honor,” Cazio said. “I do.”
“Then let us flee!” Austra urged.
“Will honor allow that?” Anne asked sarcastically.
Cazio coughed and a look of pain wormed through his brow. “Honor discourages it,” he said.
Anne shook a remonstrative finger at him. “Listen to me well, Cazio Pachiomadio da Chiovattio,” she said, remembering how her mother sounded when she was giving orders. “There are many more knights than this one, and we are in danger from them. I require your protection for Austra and myself. I require your aid in removing us from harm’s way. Will your honor deny me that?”
Cazio scratched his head, then grinned sheepishly. The blinded knight stood with his back against a tree, sword out, facing no one in particular. “No, casnara,” he said. “I will accompany you.”
“Then let us go, and quickly,” Austra said.
“A moment,” Anne told them. She raised her voice. “Knight of Hansa. Why have you and your companions sinned against Saint Cer? Why did you murder the sisters, and why do you pursue me? Answer me, or I shall wither the rest of you as I have darkened your eyes.”
The knight turned at the sound of her voice.
“I do not know the answer to that, lady,” he said. “I know only that what my prince tells me to do must be done.”
At that he charged her. Almost casually, Cazio stuck out his foot, which the knight tripped over. He went sprawling to the ground.
“Have you more questions for him?” the Vitellian asked.
“Let me think,” Anne replied.
“The night wanes, and she is our ally. The sun will not be as kind.”
Anne nodded. She didn’t think the Hanzish knight would tell her more even if he knew it. They would waste precious time.
“Very well,” Cazio said. “Follow me, fair casnaras. I know the countryside. I will guide you through it.” His brow wrinkled. “If you do not rob me of my sight, of course.”
Cazio’s ribs felt as if they were aflame, but his blood, at least, did not flow strongly. He was able to set a good pace but could not run for any length of time. That was just as well, he knew, for running would only wear them all out.