"We'll send a company of the Fifth Lancers to bring them in, sir," he told the King. "If they leave within the hour and ride through the night, they should make contact sometime around noon tomorrow."
"I'll guide them," Gilan offered immediately, and his father nodded assent.
"I'd hoped you'd say that." He seized the King's arm, smiling with genuine pleasure at the relief on the tall man's face. "I can't tell you how pleased I am for you, sir," he said. The King looked at him, a little bemused. So recently, he had been privately mourning the loss of his beloved daughter Cassandra. Now, miraculously, she had been restored to life.
"My daughter is safe," he said, almost to himself.
Evanlyn crouched over the pile of wood beside the bridge railing. From time to time, she heard the dull thrum of Will's bow as he fired at the approaching enemy, but she forced herself not to look up, concentrating on the job in hand. She knew they had one last chance to get the fire going properly. If she got it wrong this time, it would mean disaster for the kingdom. So she carefully stacked and placed the wood, making sure there was sufficient air space between the pieces to allow a good draft. She had none of the shavings left to use for tinder this time, but only a few meters away, she had a perfect source of fire. The right-hand cable was still blazing fiercely.
Satisfied that the wood was stacked properly, she took Will's saxe and cut several one-meter lengths of tarred rope from the bridge railing-thinner lengths, not the massive cable itself. It would have been almost impossible to hack through that in time.
Taking the rope lengths, she came to her feet and darted across the bridge to the blazing fire on the other side. It was a simple matter to get the lengths of tarred rope burning, then she ran back to her fire pile and draped the burning rope around the base, trailing it through the gaps she had left in the wood. The flames licked at her fingers as she pushed the rope in between pieces of wood. She bit her lip, ignoring the pain as she made sure the fire was burning freely.
The tar-fed flames crackled at the wood, flickered, then took. She fanned them for a few seconds as they became established, until the lighter kindling strips were burning fiercely, then the heavier planks began to take fire as well. The handrail caught in several places and now tongues of flame were shooting up to the cable, beginning to lick at it, feeding on the tar, then running up to where it joined the wooden pylon structure.
Only now did she take the time to glance up at Will. Her eyes were dazzled by the fire and she could see him only as a dull blur, five meters away, behind a rock outcrop.
As she looked, he rose to a standing position and fired an arrow. She looked into the surrounding darkness but could see no sign of their attackers.
The bridge gave another convulsive jerk beneath her feet and the roadway tilted to an alarming degree as the second of the three strands of the right-hand cable burned through and the structure sagged farther to that side. They wouldn't have much time to get back across to where Horace and Tug waited. She had to warn Will.
Saxe knife in hand, she ran full pelt to where he crouched behind the rocks, his eyes searching the darkness for movement. He glanced quickly at her as she arrived.
"The other side's burning," she said. "Let's get out of here."
Grimly, he shook his head, then pointed with his chin to a jumble of rocks barely thirty meters from where they crouched.
"Can't risk it," he told her. "One of them has got behind those rocks. If we go now, he might have time to save the bridge."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a quick, darting movement to their left and pointed quickly.
"There's one!" she said. Will nodded.
"I see him," he replied evenly. "He's trying to draw my fire. As soon as I shoot at him, the one closer to us will have a chance. I have to wait for him to show himself before I can shoot."
She looked at him, horrified, as she realized the significance of what he was saying. "But that means the others can close in on us," she said. This time, Will said nothing. The incipient panic he had felt was now replaced by a calm sense of resolution. Deep in his heart, a part of him was glad-glad that he hadn't failed Halt and glad that he had repaid the faith that the older Ranger had placed in him when he chose him as an apprentice.
He glanced at Evanlyn for a long moment and she realized he was willing to be captured if it kept the enemy away from the bridge just a few minutes longer.
Captured or killed, she amended.
Behind them, there was a groaning crash and she turned to see the first cable finally give way in a shower of flame and sparks. It took the burned-through upper half of its pylon with it. That was the result they had wanted. They had discussed the idea of simply cutting the main cables, but that would have left the major structure of the bridge untouched. The pylons themselves had to be destroyed. Now the entire bridge was hanging, suspended by the left-hand cable, and flames were already eating their way through that. In a few more minutes, she knew, the bridge would be gone. The Fissure would be impassable once more.
Will tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn't a very successful attempt. "You can't do much more here," he told her. "Get across the bridge while you've still got time."
She hesitated, desperately wanting to go but unwilling to leave him on his own. He was only a boy, she realized, but he was willing to sacrifice himself for her and the rest of the kingdom.
"Go!" he said, turning to her and shoving at her. And now she thought she could see the glitter of tears in his eyes. Her own eyes filled and she couldn't see him clearly. She blinked to clear her vision, just in time to see a jagged rock curving down out of the firelit night.
"Will!" she shouted, but she was too late. The rock took him in the side of the head and he grunted in surprise, then his eyes rolled up and he fell at her feet, dark blood already welling from his scalp. She heard a rush of feet from several directions and she tossed the saxe knife aside and scrabbled in the dirt for Will's bow. Then she found it and was trying to nock an arrow when rough hands grabbed her, knocking the bow from her grasp and pinning her arms to her sides. The Skandian held her in a bear hug, her face pressed into the rough sheepskin of his vest, smelling of grease and smoke and sweat and all but suffocating her. She kicked out, lashing with her feet and tossing her head, trying to butt the man who was holding her, but to no avail.
Beside her, Will lay unmoving in the dust. She began to sob in frustration and anger and sadness and she heard the Skandians laughing. Then another sound came and they stopped. The arms holding her released a little and she was able to see.
It was a drawn-out, creaking groan and it came from the bridge. The right-hand support was gone, and the left-hand side, already weakened by the fire, was now holding the entire structure. It was never meant for such a load, even in perfect condition. With a final sharp SNAP! the pylon shattered at its halfway point and, cables and all, the bridge collapsed slowly into the depths of the Fissure, trailing a bright shower of sparks behind it in the darkness.
26
G ILAN WATCHED IMPATIENTLY AS THE COMPANY OF CAVALRYMEN remounted after a fifteen-minute break. He was itching to be away, but he knew that both horses and men needed rest if they were to continue at the killing pace he had set them. They had been traveling for half a day and he estimated that they should meet Will's party sometime in the early afternoon.