"Back into the trees," Edilus hissed, rising up into a low crouch and beginning to jog toward the safety of the forest.
Before the druid had even gone three steps, an arrow hissed out of the night, sinking into the ground near his feet. A shout rose up from nearby. "To arms, to arms!" someone cried, and light suddenly illuminated the area from several locations about the group as more arrows fell among its members.
Horial spun about in place, trying to discern where the shouts had originated, but the sudden glow of lights in the sky forced him to squint and shield his eyes. He recognized the magical effect.
Just like Vambran's signal flares, the sergeant realized.
By that point the pounding of hooves sounded nearby, and the mercenary could see a cadre of cavalrymen rushing toward the group. They seemed to have appeared out of thin air, for there was no place close by where they could have hidden beforehand. From another direction, more soldiers charged toward them on foot, again much too near to have been hiding anywhere but in the tall grasses. Then Horial noticed a group of infantry, and yet another of cavalry. In all, nearly half a dozen small units of troops were bearing down on them, easily forty soldiers or more.
Silver Ravens.
"Ambush!" the sergeant cried out, realizing that the group was almost surrounded. The only direction that remained open for retreat was away from the forest. "To the ruins!" he shouted, grabbing at Burtis, who had dropped to one knee and was loading his crossbow. "Don't waste your ammunition!" he told the Crescent as he shoved the man in the direction of the portal.
A crossbow bolt zipped past Horial's head as he spun and found Filana looking about, dazed. Horial tried to take hold of the woman and show her the direction he wished her to go, but she sagged down at his feet then, and he saw the arrow jutting from the small of her back.
"Damn it to the Nine Hells," Horial swore as he bent down and scooped the soldier up. Hefting Filana over his shoulder, he began to charge across the field as fast as his burden would allow. He spotted Edilus nearby, twirling a sling over his head and aiming at an oncoming mounted soldier. The druid released the sling and fired the stone just as Horial reached him. "Help me!" Horial said, trying to grab at the woodsman and pull him along. "I can't carry her by myself!"
Edilus spun to stare at the sergeant, hatred plain in his expression. "Betrayer!" he shouted in fury. "You warned them that we were coming! You planned this ambush!"
Horial nearly punched the druid in the face. "So they could run down my own soldiers? You're crazed!" Then he shook his head. "Suit yourself," he said, trying to quell his anger. He turned to run.
Ahead, Adyan, Burtis, and Grolo had reached the base of the outer wall of the ruined structure. The had formed a line and were firing back toward Horial and the wounded Filana, aiming at targets that must have been just behind the two of them. To Horial's amazement, two druids-one a wild elf and one a halfling, both with leaves and twigs tangled in their hair-had joined the mercenaries, working together to try to hold the ambush at bay long enough to allow their companions to catch up.
In the next instant, Horial felt the jolt of impact twice in succession, and Filana jerked on his shoulder with a scream of agony. The mercenary felt two more strikes, but the woman did not react at all.
Then an arrow sank into the flesh of Horial's leg, just above the knee, and he went down in a tumble.
This is it, the sergeant thought, groaning as he waited for the mounted troops to ride him down. May Waukeen deem me worthy to be received in Brightwater, he prayed.
Just beyond Horial's sight, he heard the scream of men and mount, and the clash of weapon on weapon. Then, without warning, Edilus was there beside him, trying to help him up. Horial reached for Filana, trying to find a way to lift her while pushing on one good leg.
"Leave her," the druid snapped, grabbing at the sergeant and dragging him to his feet. "She's already left this world."
Indeed, Horial could see by then the multitude of arrows protruding from her back, one at the base of her skull. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat in sorrow, then grunted as Edilus forced him to move. Together, the mercenary and the druid limped toward the others. But they could not move fast enough to evade the first group of horsemen bearing down on them.
Edilus let Horial slide down to the ground as the druid yanked his scimitar free of a scabbard across his back and slashed at the closest cavalryman. Horial managed to get to one knee and bring his crossbow up, aiming at the next mounted foe coming in, a mace held high and ready to deliver a crushing blow. The sergeant fired his weapon and saw the horseman twitch then pitch off the far side of his saddle as the horse thundered by.
A hail of arrows and bolts swished through the air near Horial, and one caught him in the shoulder. The force of the missile wrenched him around and he groaned, letting the crossbow slide free of his grip as he sagged forward, his face pressing into the cool damp earth beneath him. For the second time that night, the mercenary was certain he would die.
But the riders did not come.
"Come on!" Edilus rasped, trying to lift Horial once more and cross the few remaining paces to the ruins. The sergeant looked around and saw that the cavalry had retreated under a hail of bolts and missiles from the group at the base of the ruins. They were reforming, though, and the infantry was moving in, coming straight at the tiny band of defenders with bows and swords brandished.
Horial limped beside the druid, who had the sergeant's good arm wrapped around his shoulders. Dizzy with pain, Horial could barely tell how close they were to the safety of the crumbling walls, and he expected at any moment to feel the sharp pain of more arrows piercing his flesh from behind.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pair reached the wall. Adyan took Horial's other arm and helped Edilus bear him into the structure while the remaining defenders continued to fire their weapons at the onrushing foes.
"Where's the portal?" Horial asked, fumbling in his pocket for the shard of quartz. He drew the fractured stone out and tried to hand it to Adyan. "Lead the way," he told his companion. "Go without me," he added.
Adyan shook his head. "We're all going back together," the man drawled, the scar along his chin shining faintly in the light of Selune. "Not leaving you here for those bastards to tear apart."
A cry of pain arose just on the other side of the wall, and when Horial turned to look, Grolo came dashing in through the gap in the stonework amidst a shower of projectiles. The dwarf looked Edilus squarely in the eye and said, "One of your mates is down, and the other, the wee fellow, went scampering through the grass in a blood fury. I don't think we'll see him again."
Edilus nodded but said nothing.
"Where's the thrice-damned portal?" Horial asked again. "We're out of time!"
"This way," Edilus said, turning and guiding Horial toward a partially collapsed flight of stairs. "The archway at the top," the druid said, pointing as they moved.
Horial eyed the top of the steps, for it looked as though the stairway was hanging by will alone and would fall over at the slightest push. "You're crazed," the sergeant breathed. "That will never hold us," he told the druid.
"It will," Edilus replied, "if you go one at a time."
"That doesn't help me," Horial said wryly, still leaning against the druid. "I don't think I can climb fast enough." He grabbed hold of Adyan's hand and slipped the shard of quartz into the man's palm. "Get up there," he said. "Get through the portal." Adyan started to protest, but Horial talked right over him. "If I make it, I make it, and if I don't… Vambran is counting on us."
Adyan gave his friend one measured look, then he nodded and spun around. "Let's go," he said to Grolo.
The dwarf turned and followed Adyan at a distance, waiting until the sergeant was at the top before proceeding.